Gin Punch Recipes

Here are Gin Punch Recipes to get any party going. Over the years I’ve gathered, modified and created some of these from scratch.

The over-arching thumb rule is that you should aim for the final drink to be in a 1:3 or 1:4 ratio, excluding the ice. Therefore it should not go more 1:5 once the ice is fully melted. Keeping this rule in mind, you basically can mix and match ingredients endlessly.
Here are some that have worked for me. I’m going to write all recipes for a full bottle of Gin (750ml). The water and ice proportions are interchangeable, based on personal taste.
On Juices
Avoid the “Real Juice” brand. It’s got too much sugar. Use only Tropicana or better. If you use a sugarless juice, then you may have to add sugar. :

Cucumber Cooler

– 1 full 750 ml bottle of gin
– 1 to 1.5 litres of Ice
– 500 ML Water
– 1 Large / 2 Small Cucumbers, cut into pinky finger sizes / coins
If it’s Indian kakumbers, then peal and get rid of the bitterness. Grandma will tell you how. English cucumbers don’t need to be peeled.
– Half handful of Mint leaves. Don’t chop.
Just cut off the thicker branches. Let the leaves hold together, or you’ll be spitting all evening. Haha
– 500 ML Sprite / 7Up
– 500 ML Soda
– A dash of salt
— Soak Cucumber and Mint in Gin first. Then mix all. Taste as you add layers.

Apple Ginger Pop

– 1 full 750 ml bottle of gin
– 1.5 litres of Ice
– A dash of salt
– 1 Litre Apple Juice
– 300 ML Ginger Ale
– 500 ML Soda
— Just Mix All. Taste as you add layers.

Orange Pineapple Mindblast

– 1 full 750 ml bottle of gin (also works fantastic with rum in hot weather, and with vodka in most weathers)
– 1.5 litres of Ice
– A dash of salt
– 1 Litre Orange Juice
– 250 ML PineappleJuice
– 500 ML Soda
—- Mix all

The Earl Grey Ice Tea

– 1 full 750 ml bottle of gin
– 1.5 litres of Ice
– 500 ML Water
– 3 Coin-sliced lime
– 1 or 2 teabags of Earl Grey Ice Tea steeped in the gin for 20 minutes. Careful to not do this for too long or it will get bitter
– 500 ML Soda
– 10 teaspoons of sugar, in boiled water. This needs to be done before hand, to let it cool in time.
—- First boil the sugar water > Steep the gin > Mix All

The hills are alive with the sound of music: The Hindu

JACOB CHERIAN posts a letter from the recently-concluded Ziro music festival set against the scenic backdrop of Arunachal Pradesh

Dear all,

How I wish you guys had made it to Ziro this year! I can’t begin to describe what an incredible adventure it was. So, let me just start from where I am right now and how I got here.

It’s Saturday morning and I’m lying in a tent for four, in ‘Artist City’. It is the beginning of day three out of four. On two of the other four mattresses are friends who could not manage to stagger back to their own tent after our bonfire jam wound up at 7 a.m.

It’s about noon right now and drizzling. The ceaseless pitter-patter soothes my mild Adi-Apong hangover. Adi-Apong is the finer rice wine available here. When I got here two days ago, I got so excited by the range of local tribal alcohol, I drank every variety in that one night. By 3 a.m., it had reacted with my gut, almost exactly like eight cheap Long Island teas would. It was a mess, and thus my first night wrapped up fairly early.

Last night, however, I was fuelled till 7 a.m. on Adi-Apong, served in a foot-long shoot of bamboo. In that same stall, they served shots of stronger local brews that came in bamboo shot glasses about 3-inch high. Here, it’s all about having an appetite for the new and unexplored. That broadly sums up the personality of the artistes and festival-goers here. As one of the Tetseo Sisters said, “You need time on your hands and the heart of an adventurer to come and enjoy this little piece of heaven.”

Enroute here though, I wondered to myself, “This journey had better be worth it.” It took me about 36 hours to get here. Fly from Bangalore to Kolkata to Guwahati, with a stopover in each city. Then a 10-hour train ride to Naharlagun Station and then a seven-hour bus ride in the rain. Normally, this ride would have taken than 5 hours, but with sudden rains, we experienced two landslides and took two U-turns. There were times when boulders — the size of refrigerators — just rolled off the hill and lay in the middle of the road; all shiny, glistening and reeking of ill-will. On either side you could see the hills constantly bleeding streams of mud and gravel. It was almost as if this part of the country was pushing us out with constant threats of physical danger. This drama was broken only by the delicious stop for food, where the local dhaba-like restaurant served us a thali of local fish curry, chicken curry and mutton curry for Rs. 300 per head.

The food in this part of the world is an omnivore’s dream. Coming from the nearly-omnivore state of Kerala, I’m proud of our handle on the meats. But these people in the far Northeast are at another level. At the festival, I ate smoked pork, roasted pork, pork chilli, pork curry, beef fry, smoked beef, chicken curry, chicken shreds, whole roasted grasshoppers and whole fried frogs. I could not get myself to eat rat. And unfortunately, drunken me, missed the silk worm servings.

But enough of the food, drink and travel. At the core of this festival are the people and the music. The locals are super-friendly, warm, generous and know their music. How many places in our country can brag about rock and roll being part of their local culture? Every second person can play a guitar and everyone sings from the bottom of their rice beer-soaked gut.

The day stage was definitely the more fun stage, with a backdrop of lush green hills, fields and 5 p.m. sunsets. Gowri Jayakumar and Alisha Bhatth had the crowd standing there, with nothing but their guitars and voices. For me, the Barmer Boys were possibly the discovery of the festival, with their flamboyant Rajasthani showmanship. On the night stage though, an acquired taste for the weird made me fall in love with the Assamese band, Digital Suicide, which had a few hilarious tracks. There was even a song about how the Naga chilli affects their bowels — all songs were accompanied with hand actions, mind you. Naturally, my trained musician friends hated it.

But you guys need to come and judge this for yourself. Next year, I propose that we come back here. But this time on an army of Enfields — dodging boulders and all.

Much love,

Jacob Cherian

Originally appeared in The Hindu on 8th October 2015 

North Goa on a plate: The Hindu

Jacob Cherian puts together a list of fish thalis to sample while you’re living it up

If you’re flocking to Goa this holiday season for a day of beach-lazing and a night of wild partying, you may want to look beyond butter garlic calamari and prawn curry rice. Sure, these are staples that most love, but to really taste the sun, sand, and sea, nothing even comes close to the Goan fish thalis — Goa’s traditional lunch.

Bear in mind that this is not a food review, but an attempt to dissect the contents of the meal, venue, price, and most importantly — how to find it. I’ve also given GPS coordinates for each place so that it makes your search just a little easier.The basics are simple and run across all thalis: rice, fish curry, fish fry, pickle, kokum and a vegetable curry. It’s important to remember this is primarily lunch-time fare and therefore not all restaurants will serve you a thali at night.

 

Anand Bar

This Siolim restaurant is nothing short of an institution and anyone who claims to know Goan food will definitely know Anand Bar.Anand has become the benchmark for the fish thali in North Goa. The locals, however, feel that the restaurant is quite overrated and many even keep away from it — Anand’s peers accuse him of having gone commercial. If fish thali joints had a voice, Anand’s would be the loudest in North Goa. Since this is the most popular and the most crowded of all places, it’s better to reach there early and by that I mean before 2.30 p.m.

GPS Coordinates: 15.595921, 73.760349

Price: Rs 90

Beyond the basics: Clams

 

Fat Fish

If Fat Fish were a person, she would definitely be an outgoing and trendy city slicker who has done well for herself in the Goan countryside. One of the fancier fish thalis outside the five-star experiences, it contains an impressive list of condiments on an equally impressive customised plate. Fat Fish is neat, well-ventilated, and overlooks paddy fields. It effectively veers away from the local bar feel that is so common in Goa.

GPS Coordinates: 15.5565, 73.7636

Price: Rs. 220

Beyond the basics: Clams, Crab Xacuti, Dry Sardines,

 

Starlight

Starlight is a favourite among locals and tourists alike. Even though it’s more expensive than the standard thali, the Goans love this place. To the budget traveler, it makes good sense. The one willing to spend can marvel at the efficiency of such optimised manufacturing operations. Unfortunately, Starlight has road repairs happening in front. To keep the dust out of your plate, the management has put up tarpaulins, which makes everything a little too sultry once the food high kicks in.

GPS Coordinates: 15.5654, 73.7649

Price: Rs 180

Beyond the basics: Clams, Fish Curry Ambotik, Tandoori Roti

 

Vinayak

Vinayak, situated in the middle of fields, is the only contender on this list that is not on a main road. It is run by a charming family and still retains that small-town feel. The clientele is often non-Goans and foreigners who have settled in Goa and want to just gaze into the distance as they absent-mindedly pick at the clams.

GPS Coordinates: 15.5974, 73.7726

Price: Rs 70

Beyond the basics: Clams

Keywords: Goa traditional lunch, Goan fish thali, fish thali, Goan cuisine

Originally appeared in The Hindu on 25th December, 2014

Chillies

I find it difficult to go through a meal without eating a raw green chilly on the side. I decided to grow them and now have raised quite a collection.

In this new series, I would like to make a record of my little collection of this beautiful fruit and all my thoughts related to it.

In this first post, I’m featuring the common Indian green chilly.

Local Karnataka Chillies

Chinese usher in the Year of the Snake

SHANGHAI: As you read this on Sunday morning, in India, almost every single person on the other side of the border, in China, will be preparing for the biggest lunch of their year. It’s the Chinese New Year’s Day today and our billion-and-a-half neighbours are celebrating the Year of the Water Snake. The Year of the Water Dragon is on its way out. As I type this on Friday evening, many Chinese HR managers are probably still in office as this is crunch time for them. Their inboxes flooded with last minute applications and cover letters disguised as customised greetings. Their desks stacked with red greeting cards filled with handwritten endearments from the more earnest candidates. This is the time of annual churn for corporate China. Fresh beginnings often mean fresh jobs. As these HR managers scramble to wrap up, on Friday evening, all the Chinese high-tech railway stations and T3-esque airports are packed with people rushing to their hometowns. The usually port-heavy and factory-freckled Eastern coast drains itself of millions of Chinese workers, many of whom have left a child in their home province. This homecoming event is often cited as the largest periodic migration of humanity ever. While standing in Hongqiao Station, in Shanghai, the energy at these transport hubs is palpable. These people are filled with week-long anticipation, like the final week before school closes. They yearn to spend the following holiday week with their family. I spent last Chinese New Year’s week with one of these families in semi-rural China. It was a town called Gaoyou, outside the ancient capital of China, Nanjing. Breakfast consisted of roast chicken, roast pork, chicken soup, spinach salad, pork soup, rice, baijiu, iced wine and cigarettes. This was just the first meal of the day, at 9 am. Lunch at noon, and dinner at 6 pm, were even more elaborate. Thank goodness I eat everything. Well, that’s what I said up until last Chinese New Year lunch time. On that eventful day I picked up food with my chopsticks from the revolving table and just as I put one chunk of meat in my mouth, my Chinese American friend leaned over and said in a hurried whisper “Dog”. I kept chewing. It took a while for this idea to sink in, but when it did the next day, I wound up eating just palak and chawal for the next two days straight.

As published in The Economic Times, 10th February 2013. By Jacob Skrybe Cherian

Chinese versions of known products V

A Snickers Bar and Nestle Wafer Chocolate Bar

Variants of Perfetti’s Alpenliebe

Chinese versions of known products III

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Chinese versions of known products II

Lays Texas Grilled BBQ Flavor

Lays Italian Red Meat Flavor

Lays Fried Prawn Flavor

Lays Cheese Lobster Flavor

Chinese versions of known products

Chinese Tropicana Orange and Mixed Fruit Juice

Minute Maid Lemon, Orange, Grape, Peach, Aloe Vera

Pepsi 0.5 Litre and 330ml Can

Coca Cola 0.5 Litre and 2 Litre

Chinese New Year, in semi-urban China

The Festive Routine
Baijiu, food, sleep and repeat— my routine for the Chinese New Year week straight. At the surface level that’s all it was. And Can, my classmate that hosted me with his Chinese family, had warned me about that before we even left for Gaoyou (more on the town in future posts).

The Chinese New Year Table

There was no ceremony to celebrate the most important holiday for 1.6 billion people. From my readings on China I knew that there is barely a trace of religion left in this part of the world. But still. Coming from my Indian frame-of-mind I thought of Diwali and expected some sort of Chinese puja equivalent. From my Christian upbringing I expected some of Christmas mass sort of thing. Lighting of incense sticks at least?! Nope. Nothing.

A typical Chinese family dinner

The Fireworks
There were 30-minute bursts of fireworks across the city that happened every day for five straight days. The fireworks were impressive considering they were coming from different households. Legend has it that fireworks chases away evil spirits from your house to the next. And then the next house light fireworks to chase it away from theirs and it goes on from there.
So we spent the entire week, lunch and dinner, going from dining table to dining table sampling the finest food and baijiu from that region. I was even invited to join the men folk at a bathhouse. A naked Chinese male employee scrubbed my balls with a pumice stone. Lol. According to my Chinese friends, almost all Chinese men in the upper-middle income bracket go these bathhouses more a couple of times a month. And this has been going on for 1000s of years. More on that in a future post.

The Hosts
The hosts were amazingly warm and were pretty much the kings of their town of 800,000 people. One uncle owned three super-market sized pharmacies. Another one sold most of the fireworks in that town. They drove nice cars, which is supposedly rare in semi-urban China and therefore a symbol that they were well off.

My host families

The Gifts
On the big Chinese New Year’s day the uncles and aunties handed me Hung Bao (red envelopes with money). I gifted each of the four families a small wooden elephant and a collage of 20 photographs (80 different photographs totally) from all over India. In turn, I gave the children of their households Hung Bao.

Photos and Elephants

The Conversation
Firstly, I’d like to thank my classmate Can Hu for being my translator. At one point he actually gave up. Can’t blame him. Lol. The people at different dining tables asked me different questions about India. Almost all of them have watched multiple Hindi movies. The women were humming Hindi songs (more on that in a future post). Some of the men actually knew about the ‘limited conflict’ at the Arunachal Pradesh border.
People knew that many Indians eat with hands. They were surprised at my chopsticks skills. They said that I was ‘close to my family’ as I held the chopsticks close the middle, and not at the end. They all wanted to see pictures of my girlfriend, asked when we were getting married and when I bid them goodbye they said that I should come back with my children. I can’t wait!