These last few days, I have been doing a lot of fusion eating. Punjabi Paneer Fry with Russian Caviar, Gujarati Dhoklas with French Pate de Foie Gras, Egg Burjis with a scattering of Mediterranean olives inside, etc.

I have pretended to like all this, since I do not want to upset the chefs, but I really don�t. I like to have one taste in my mouth at a time, and preferably for an entire meal, and not a medley of tastes which confuse the palate and the mind.

Indigo, otherwise Rahul Akerkar�s outstanding restaurant on Mandalik Road, makes a mousse out of an alphonso mango, then stuffs it into the belly of a pomfret and serves it, the chef telling you all the time that it is a simple dish. I like mangoes as a dessert, especially if somebody goes to the trouble of peeling, cutting and making a mousse out of the mango for me. And I like the pomfret as the fish course. But combining the two and making an entree out of them, I don�t appreciate.

Sidewok at the NCPA, which replaces the dreary Rangoli with its afternoon buffets, has several fusion dishes created by the redoubtable Chef Hemant Oberoi. He has got salmon from Norway, flown here direct from the ice-capped seas. He applies tandoori masala on it and grills it in a tandoor. India meets Norway. I have eaten it, compliments of the chef, and I must say it is an excellent dish, Norwegian Salmon which tastes like Tandoori Chicken.

There are also pizzas made with the Indian naan as the base. I am not a pizza man, so I cannot comment on them, but they do sound a little incongruous.

People say there is no adventure in my eating, my food habits are too straight-forward and prosaic. Perhaps. It is not that I do not like the food of different countries, I do, some more than the other. It is rather that I prefer to eat one nation�s food at a time, not several nations, combined. I like garam masalas in Indian food and lemon grass in Thai food, and not vice versa. And I want to eat chapatis with dal, not Chinese pao.

Most restaurants today claim that their food is not authentic Chinese or Thai or Lebanese or Mexican. It is adapted to meet the approval of Indian palates. Which is fine, and I am sure hoteliers know their business, but how could the Indian palate be tutored if it is given curry leaves and kothmir in all its Szechwan foods, or hot gulab jamuns with vanilla ice-creams. Though, come to think of it, the last does not sound all that bad.