From Maggi to Udon Noodle Soup

I always thought I'd marry someone who cooked. It turns out the only thing more attractive than a man who cooks... is a man who doesn't cook, but attempts it for you anyway. Over the last five years, A's cooked for me exactly two times. Ready-to-cook cake, and a ready-to-cook mac and cheese, as he's always quick to point out. But, no sarcasm, I still think it's really sweet. This week, after binge-watching Masterchef Australia and hearing me talk about the idiot-proofness of Built2Cook, he volunteered to make dinner. I figured it was an interesting opportunity to stress-test the product... would someone who'd only ever made Maggi noodles be able to pull off an Udon noodle soup? :)

eM and I took our seats in the Rao kitchen and settled down to watch. First off, I should mention that I was very impressed with Built2Cook's ability to take feedback & refine their product. I'd just mentioned an oil spill in last week's box, and this week saw the oil in a different type of container! Everything continued to be neatly labelled and packed. I'm a fan of consistency, especially from startups, so this is very promising. As A set up his kitchen, he asked if I had a strainer, a vital utensil for this dish. I do, but as I'm rating Built2Cook from the perspective of the average bachelor who doesn't cook - it may be worth noting if a recipe needs 'special' equipment like a strainer or a grinder that such kitchens may not have. They do mention it in the recipe, but it'd be good to have it mentioned upfront to avoid disappointment.

Inspired by the advice on MC Aus, A decided to 'keep his bench clean'. He opened everything, carefully re-sticking the labels for each ingredient onto the containers as he went along... he didn't want to risk grabbing the dark soy rather than the light soy, or the aromat in place of the tempura crumble. Thanks to his meticulousness, we noticed a couple of minor discrepancies. The recipe said to garnish with leeks & broccoli; but the ingredients list only mentioned leeks, and the box itself had neither. This wasn't a big deal though, as the box was chock-full of other lovely fresh veg - carrots, spinach, asparagus, yellow & red bell peppers, mushrooms. We certainly didn't miss the leeks & broccoli. It was a beautiful display of chiffonade, which made the finished dish look “exactly like the picture on the flyer!” as A said.

 

An added advantage is that it's impossible for each vegetable not to get cooked properly as they're all cut so evenly. If I had to nitpick I'd cook the asparagus slightly before throwing in the rest, as it remained slightly bitey, but mostly, it's foolproof... and so healthy, given it’s all blanched! A ate everything except one asparagus without complaint. So I definitely recommend making this with/for kids who may be picky about their vegetables otherwise.

We were also impressed with the ingredients for the curried broth. When I cook Oriental from scratch, I invariably skip things like aromat, or replace the castor sugar with white. I just can't be bothered stocking a full Oriental kitchen for the few times that I cook it. With Built2Cook, there's no such compromise because you have everything you need, in the proportions that you need. A was hesitant at first, asking if he could really just use exactly what was given without tasting along the way. In the interest of checking idiot-proofness, I told him to go for it, leaving out just the salt. The resulting broth was a thing of beauty. As A put it, "I feel so proud of making something taste like that, even though I didn't actually do anything." Hint, hint: if trying to get to someone's heart through their stomach, this is bound to impress!

The broth and vegetables are perfectly balanced, and the whole thing has a complex flavour profile which you wouldn't think came from just four basic steps. It probably took A about ten minutes to cook - 8 more than Maggi; but 10,000 times more healthy; and, frankly, just as moreish. I'd be happy to drink mugfuls of that every day. I wasn't this impressed with thetacos since their taste depended on my ability to season. This, on the other hand, was gorgeous enough to inspire poetry - the crunch of the tempura crumble against the freshness of the spring onions, while the veg stayed firm but tender in that rich broth... I hope they keep a Japanese dish on their menu at all times, because the chef absolutely nailed this one! 

I think the only advice I'd give non-cooks who try Built2Cook is to follow the recipes verbatim except for the amount of oil & salt to be used. With a non-stick kadai, we used about 1/3^rd the oil provided, and none of the salt. It was lovely to sit around doing nothing while A whipped up a beautiful meal. I could see his confidence growing as he cooked, and the dish's resounding success has him rearing to try something else soon!

E-Commerce Wins

There are quite a few accomplishments I'm proud of. Today, I added a triumphant moment to my absolute top-twenty, will-brag-about-this-forever pile: I booked a tatkal ticket on the infamous Indian Railways site.

Source: Firstpost

To be fair, I rarely have an issue with them when it comes to regular tickets. Yes, their Captchas are a bit ridiculous, and they have to stop placing them on every single page. Yes, they occasionally log you out for no reason. But still, with normal tickets, it's an easy enough matter to get back in and book, because the number of seats available doesn't change drastically every 5 minutes.

Tatkal tickets, on the other hand, are only released at 10am on the day before the journey. So anyone with an emergency of any sort (such as when the Indian Railways decides to advance the time of your carefully pre-booked train by over six hours... without informing you) logs in and frantically tries to get train tickets for the following day. 

There are over 10,000 railway origin-destination pairs in India, so you'd think even this wouldn't be a problem, but it is. Despite the abundance of options, very few people want to get to, say, Rai Bareli, in a hurry. No, the majority want Chennai-Bangalore, Hyderabad-Mumbai, and so on. There are about 400 Tatkal tickets (max) for each of these combinations. There are 243 million internet users in India. You do the math. Supposedly, 40,000-45,000 Tatkal tickets are booked within an hour of their being released. 

My theory is that these tickets would get booked in the first ten minutes; it's just that the site adamantly refuses to allow it. At 10am on the dot, IRCTC gets overwhelmed by all the attention. It hangs, it jerks. It throws Captcha after Captcha after you. Every minute, on the minute, no matter what stage of the booking you're at, you will get automatically logged out. It's an exercise in patience.

I don't usually deal with tatkal anything, it sends my BP soaring. On the rare occasions when I do need a tatkal ticket, my parents have bought it for me the old-fashioned way - by 'queueing' up at the railway counter and fighting their way through a crowd that didn't get the memo that queues exist for a reason. But, as I said, the Indian Railways decided to arbitly re-schedule a train that starts at 6:30pm to 1:30pm, and not bother notifying people who'd booked themselves on said train. And I'm having a baby in 20-ish days, so my parents getting here before that is kind of imperative. So I offered to book tatkal tickets.

How hard can it be, right? I logged into the site at 9:35am (good call, because they claimed I read their Captcha wrong 3 times), and then refreshed the page every 2 minutes. FYI - it logs you out every 3 minutes if you let it get idle before 10/after 12. Also, FYI - it logs you out if you refresh the page/run a new search/do anything more than 25 times. And yes, you do have to prove you're a human being again, even if you're on the exact same browser. People have recommended logging in from different browsers so you're always logged in somewhere, but I can tell you this doesn't work - it just logs you out everywhere. People have also said Internet Explorer is the fastest when it comes to IRCTC, but uh, IE isn't the fastest when it comes to anything. Chrome worked just fine, while my IE was still booting up and asking if it could be my default browser (yes, sure, that's going to happen).

Anyway. 9:45am. The downstairs neighbour came over with a plumber to check for leaks because his... long story, and it was in Telugu, so I wasn't even really listening. I waved them out at 9:55am, ninja-like focus trained on my laptop. And realized that thanks to IRCTC's brain numbing refresh-and-repeat routine, I'd been lulled into leaving my debit card inside my wallet, rather than out. I whipped it out and typed in the numbers, as well as the ID proof details so I could easily copy-paste it.

And then, the moment of truth - 10am. IRCTC went bananas. It logged me out 5 times, 3 times at the payment confirmation stage, and had me enter passenger details 6 separate times. So my insane typing speed finally came in handy. About 3 minutes into the process, I started to despair, and thought, fleetingly, "They'll all be gone by now!" But each time I got back to the availability page, it continued to say 330 tickets were available. Which means nothing, by the way, because they probably just hadn't refreshed it yet. Still, it gave me the fortitude to press on. And finally, finally, six glorious minutes later, I'd booked three tickets. I feel like I deserve a sticker or something.

"Woah," A said. "I've never known anyone who managed to book a Tatkal ticket online before."

He wasn't even being sarcastic. There are agents who charge you to book these tickets online, and then tell you sheepishly that they all sold out too fast. I could share my top tips for getting in and out quickly etc, but the truth is, they'd be no good, because the rules keep changing. The point of this post is merely to record for posterity how useless e-com sites can sometimes be in 2014... here's hoping we'll be scoffing at this kind of thing a few years from now.

... Just for the record, IRCTC isn't the only site to earn my wrath. A certain swankily-advertising furniture portal called Pepperfry is so bad it's not funny. It took them four weeks to tell me the office table they'd confirmed for me wasn't in stock and wasn't ever going to be. It took them another two weeks to refund my money for the table, plus the chair which I clearly no longer needed. Three months later, they still haven't picked up the chair that came with the table, Yesterday, they called to see if I liked the table. I explained that I didn't have an opinion. They called an hour later to see if I liked the chair, at least.

I could go on, but I think I've made my point.

Having a Baby in Hyderabad

One of the things I struggle with after moving back to India is the lack of information online. I'll see guest houses on the road, but they won't have websites, or even a listing on MakeMyTrip/TripAdvisor. I know restaurants offer home delivery, but there's no way of ordering other than to call them up. And perhaps most irksome of all, there are very few online reviews of any product or service. 

... All of which is to say that I had to resort to asking people about maternity hospitals in Hyderabad, rather than just resorting to good old Google. The internet was almost no use - it couldn't even tell me the average cost of having a baby (up to delivery). So to potentially save someone else some time, here's what we found. I should preface this by saying what we were looking for:

* A hospital within 8-10kms of our house in Madhapur/Hitech City. Not only do you not want to deliver your baby en route, but also, it just makes it simpler for check-ups.

* A reasonable C-section rate. I have nothing against medical intervention, but I also didn't want to go to a place with a statistical history of repeatedly interfering. 

* Low to no wait times. We waited five hours (not even exaggerating) at Vijaya Diagnostics for a TIFFA scan. It makes me BP-hopping mad. I'm the type that makes appointments well in advance, and I expect hospitals to honour the time slots they give me, barring an emergency of some sort. 

* A trustworthy doctor whom we felt comfortable with. I just can't relax around a doctor who says things like "They deliver breech babies naturally in the US because they don't care if it dies," or "The only reason people can't breastfeed is because they don't try hard enough." That kind of BS is annoying enough coming from elderly relatives who 'don't know better,' but to hear it from a medical practitioner was terrifying.

* I preferably wanted a place that understood the relevance of skin-to-skin, lactation consulting, and so on. I'm not saying I'd necessarily want an active labour or remember to do Lamaze. However, I'd be happier if the hospital's philosophies weren't stuck in the 1980's. 

There were four hospitals we considered - Fernandes, Rainbow, Motherhood, and The Birthplace. Fernandes was out straight away because of its location near Abids. While they have a clinic in Jubilee Hills, that one only offers Day Care procedures. Rainbow was incredibly close to our house, but had a C-section rate that scared me. I'm not suggesting they don't have a good reason for it. I'm only saying I was spooked and didn't bother looking any closer. 

That left us with two serious contenders - Motherhood, on Road No 12, and The Birthplace on Road No 2. Both were easily accessible. Both had senior doctors with good reviews from people whom we knew. Both preached the value of an unmedicated labour where possible. So we decided to schedule consultations with the gynacs we had been recommended at both places, and see whom we felt more comfortable with. Honestly, what it came down to wasn't which gynac we clicked with - both were fantastic. Instead, what it came down to was our experience at their waiting rooms. 

Motherhood was much busier, and our appointment was delayed by 20 minutes. On the other hand, Birthplace only has 23-25 beds, so it's far less crowded. We never felt rushed. This is a tiny thing, but I also appreciated the fact that the bathrooms were cleaner, and the labour suites looked less used. The Birthplace is, overall, much more sophisticated.

Those are all really small, subjective things. I could just as easily have gone with Motherhood, especially since the price difference between the two is considerable. The Birthplace costs (much) more than any other hospital, though they do include things like epidurals which other hospitals often add on as extras. However, we decided on The Birthplace, and I've been very happy with that decision. A few things that really stood out for me:

* We've never had to wait for an appointment or a scan or a test. Everything happens with clinical precision. Even blood work is usually turned around in 24 hours, and the results are emailed over, along with a follow up phone call. My doctor's available by email as well as during our appointments.

* The way they carry out scans is fantastic. Their experience even beats the ones we had in Toronto. They project what the sonographer's seeing onto an HDTV in 3D/4D. It's pretty amazing that they also let A stay in the whole time, rather than for the last ten minutes.

*  They have some fairly useful classes over the weekends, on topics ranging from nutrition to Lamaze to prenatal yoga. I like the flexibility involved in choosing the classes you want to go to (and I lurve the whole wheat cheese sandwiches they serve at the end, but that's irrelevant).

* Dr. Pratibha Narayan came highly recommended. She specializes in high risk pregnancies, and what I love about that is the fact that she doesn't stress about the small stuff. A chilled out doctor is your one raft of sanity in India, where most people are just so intense about pregnancy (Don't lift that! Don't travel! Eat for two! Baaah. I push back, but it's even better when your doctor pushes back too).

As for what it all costs, here's a rough rundown of what you can expect to shell out at a high-end place and a more average place. I wasn't in India for the first 4.5 months, so some of these are estimates (I've no idea how many times blood work is actually done here). Don't freak out at the big numbers, insurance will usually cover the bulk of this. Do remember to check the terms though - most providers won't cover maternity for the first 2-3 years after you take the policy.

Why I Quit My Job At Google: A 4-Year Lookback

Everyone seems to be writing these, recently. And unlike most of those authors, I've had more than four years of retrospective wisdom on my decision to quit. 

Google was my first job outside college, and it was fantastic. I met some of my favourite people in the world there - I even married one. I loved having resources to what was going on in the bigger organization, and in the internet space in general. It was easily the easiest job I've ever had (the brand sells itself). And it goes without saying that the perks made my life in a developing nation  more privileged than that of many people in first world countries. So why did I quit? 

1. I was scared I was getting too comfortable.  There's a limited amount of time you can spend in a cushy job before you get entrenched there out of fear, or inertia. It's like the frog in the frying pan - turn up the heat slowly, and it'll never notice it's being cooked.  

2014 Me says: Pschah. It was the right decision at the time, since this was my first job, and I wanted to make sure I wasn't a one-trick pony. My resume's definitely the better for it, not to mention my self-esteem. But if this isn't your first job and if you don't have some burning passionate career ambitions/start-up dreams, just stick with it. This is as good as it's going to get in any job where you aren't your own boss. 

2. Without sounding like a complete baby, I missed being home. Many of my close friends at Google had already quit, Hyderabad was a strange city, and I was craving some place familiar where I could be taken care of. Plus my parents were going to start looking for marriage matches, and it just occured to me that I'd never get a chance to get spoiled by them again.

2014 Me says: When you've stayed away from home for that long, you find it hard to be someone's child. I totally enjoyed it after the initial disorientation, but I think a long vacation may have served me just as well.

3. Honestly, cutting out all the diplomatic stuff, I thought I was capable of bigger, better, more creative, more challenging things. I was learning a lot from the organization and some people in it, but not enough from my role itself. And was I really going to work with just one product all my life?

2014 Me says: Again, not a great thing from your first job. Not the worst thing if you plan on an office job all your life - especially given how easy it is to move horizontally within Google, so you're constantly picking up new things. Since I'm being honest, I think our generation believes each of us is destined for greatness. And the truth is, we're not necessarily. Not for lack of talent even, but just for lack of discipline, or luck, or the guts to say stuff like money and social comparisons don't matter. I have this theory that the smartest people are the ones who don't bother. There is nothing wrong with doing a really great job at something that comes easily to you, and spending your time outside work learning, and doing whatever really energizes you. 

4. I was getting increasingly disillusioned with some of my colleagues - not because they weren't smart, but because I saw shortcuts being taken, and politics were becoming visible in certain factions.

2014 Me says: Every organization has idiots, and empty-boasters, and work shirkers. So Google wasn't an exception, despite the myth that only the best are hired. Big deal. It's not the end of the world.

So, to sum up, quitting Google was exactly the right thing for me at the time. Not because I've since found a career that fulfills or completes me, but because I've realized from working in different roles in different organizations that it's not up to a job to do that. It's up to me.

Saturday Singing

As odd as this sounds: growing up, everyone around me seemed to sing or at least play songs on their tape recorders. I'm dating myself, eh? Yes, I'm older than I look.

I like music, and so I picked up a fair number of songs about everything from springtime to world wars. In every language from Hindi to Hebrew, at that. I filled in some of the lyrics with what I thought made sense ("habuno-urenahaya-leeeeem,"), and bathroom-sang them blithely over the years.

It just occurred to me that I could Google the songs for the real lyrics. And zomg! 

Bruce Springsteen wrote Chicken Lips & Lizard Hips? Never Smile at a Crocodile is from Peter Pan? Johnny Cash wrote My Grandfather's Clock! So. Much. New Information. 

Google inspires heart-overflowing fondness when you've grown up in the pre-internet era.It's sad to think of a generation that'll take it for granted.

The Web

Did you read about that guy who quit the internet for a year? His tech job paid him to stay offline... and write about it. (In minor resentment over all my jobs doing the opposite, I won't link to his article here).

This guy says that even stripped of the internet, he didn't write a book, or travel, or do much (or any) of the soul broadening stuff on his bucket list. At the end of it all, he found the internet wasn't responsible for his procrastinating or anti-social behavior; he was.

Here's the thing. I know the internet isn't responsible for my laziness. Maybe it's partially responsible for my caring too much about other people's opinions - I'm exposed to them far more now. However, I don't use the 'net to procrastinate, I spend a fair amount of time in the real world, and I'm happier with a book than Facebook.

Overall, the internet & I are good. I recognize it pays me a lot. I admire its potential. I realize it's drawbacks. I spent a year recently with no internet access outside of work hours, and I can't say I missed it.

But if I lived in a world where I was paid richly to stay at home and work less than 8 hours a week... I'd, at the very least, jump at the chance to work my way down my travel wishlist; writing something, anything, even if a novel doesn't come out of it. This guy's a US resident, most countries don't even need him to pre-book a visa. He's single, so no worries there. And he spent a year going nowhere, and doing nothing.

Can you tell this story annoys me?

Great Expectations & Marketing

When I shop online for, say, travel...

I'd like the site to auto-populate the origin city based on my IP address. If I close the window while I comparison shop and come back to the site, I'd like it to remember and fill in my origin, destination and dates, based on the last search I did. 

If I don't convert in that session, I'd expect the site to follow me around and give me specific details on the search I ran, which may convince me to convert - a good price point, a discount code, a special offer.

I'd expect the site to figure out if I'm likely to shop online, and if so, if I'm a high value prospect, and decide how often they want to follow me around with the repeat messages, when they should show me those messages, and what kind of discount they should bother offering me. I want them to have the sense not to bother wasting their ad dollars on me if my past purchase behavior & profile show I'm just not worth it, or that they'll spend more than they'll earn from me.

People, even traditional marketers, are often surprised when I state these expectations, and it invariably sparks a debate on privacy. See, I don't believe any of that is an invasion of my privacy, any more than when a restaurant employee remembers my order because I've been there before, or tries to convince me to try the house special, or add extras to my order, or asks for my contact details so they can offer me discounts on my birthday and anniversary. 

As long as the restaurateur/advertiser is anticipating customer needs & staying one step ahead, everyone's happy.There's just no downside to smart selling, it's the good old-fashioned meeting of common sense and customer service.

As a consumer, I'm more insulted by businesses, both online & offline, which don't try hard enough (or smart enough - nothing like getting emails about a trip you researched for dates one week out, 8 months ago), than by those that seem to know all about me.