Pondicherry, 15 December

Today Nick joined a cookery class at Sita, the splendid Franco-Indian cultural institution where they have an interesting range of courses including Indian dancing and how to wear the saree, an option Nick felt was not quite right for him.  The cooking however, turned out be exactly right and he can now prepare some dishes in the South Indian style.  There were equal numbers of men and women, so no gender bias there and it was a cosmopolitan group of Singaporeans, French, Australian, British and Nick.

They set off to the fish and vegetable markets in tuk tuks, the only way really to get around the shopping streets here without risking injury or worse.   Several small bony fish called ‘sea carp’ which Nick describes as baby sea bream were bought.   After the fish had been gutted and lentils and vegetables purchased, they returned to the kitchen to chop, pound, scrape, sautee and boil all these ingredients.

About an hour later they sat down to a feast of fish in coconut and tamarind sauce, rice, a masala dahl and a salad of bhindi (ladyfingers).  It was followed by a delicious carrot helwa made with grated carrots, cashew nuts, sugar and cardamon, all slowly reduced in milk.  Everything was served on banana leaves, bought at the market and then thrown away after the meal, to join the compost heap, truly ecological, labour and resource saving – no china to be made, no washing up, bio-degradable and resource renewable.

My great excitement was fashion related, but of a modest expenditure.  Next to our very modern hotel there is a tailor in a simple booth who altered a dress for me and repaired a pair of trousers for Nick.  It was wonderful to watch and even more wonderful to pay – all at the equivalent of 80p for both.

While taking our evening stroll along the Beach Road we tried out the GELATERIA MONTECATINI TERME.  I was doubtful, but once we entered and saw the truly amazing range and the pictures of Montecatini Terme and indeed the pony tailed, uber hippy chic Indian boys serving, exactly like their Italian counterparts, I relented – the salted caramel and the coconut were to die for, but let’s hope we don’t.