I wonder if Dominique Lapierre had as much fun writing City of Joy as I did showcasing Calcutta as a gourmet city. Satisfaction, yes. That we both got. Lapierre, because he was showing the triumph of the human spirit in Calcutta, and not the city as a beleaguered metropolis and an epitome of despair. And me, because by getting to the stomach of the city to learn about its food, I discovered Calcutta's heart.

Outsiders who think of Calcutta only as one big slum (where's the Black Hole, by the way?), should visit its fish markets at dawn, ride its trams to Chinatown for breakfast, sniff around the Nakhoda Mosque at rizzalas and chaaps cooking over slow fires, and walk down Park Street at night to figure out from neon signs that dance and tease - which are the best restaurants for Continental food. And that is only Calcutta's gut.

Far from being, as I thought, just fish, rice, mustard oil and mishti doi, Bengali food is a big event. The people of Calcutta, I was informed, are an infectitiously passionate lot. Few things unite them more than their love for food. To this I might have added soccer. But soccer is a seasonal sport. And it would take Calcutta's best teams to bring the city together at Salt Lake. But no conditions apply to eating. The best Bengali cuisine is cooked at home. And you must look for a friend in Calcutta, not a restaurant, since Bengali food is not available for money, but only for love.

If there's love in the cuisine of Calcutta, there's celebration in the cooking of Maharashtra. Priya Tendulkar brings out the festivity of Diwali with her account of traditional Maharashtrian faral (sweetmeats). ISKCON's sanyasins feast on Janmashtami. While Executive Chef Hemant Oberoi is full of the yuletide spirit while mixing his Christmas plum pudding. There's also a double dose of rejoicing at China Garden. Nelson Wang celebrates its reopening. And Jaya Bachchan asks hubby Amitabh the crore-rupaiya question at his birthday dinner: Is the Pepper Chilli Babycorn and Straw Mushrooms as good as before?

For this issue, Indian restaurateur Namita Panjabi brought her Chutney Mary and Veeraswamy down to Bombay. And Karen Anand, the best of Australian wines. From Avenue de Champagne in Epernay, Monsieur Jean Berchon carried over Moet & Chandon's champagne of the millennium. And out of the 50-year-old fires burning in the Society's kitchen, Chef Augustine Rozario produced Chateaubriand en Papillote once again. Plus, Mukesh Ambani, as reliable a foodie as Reliance is an industry, took time to go eating out. And cigar aficianados and single malt connoisseurs let their hair down.

Finally, the heart of Calcutta I mentioned earlier... part of it's there in the picture on this page. And in my reportage on lunch time at Mother Teresa's home for abandoned children (Page 96). Speaking of which, I want to pass the hat around for those orphaned kids back in Calcutta. Mother Teresa said, "Give till it hurts." I'm saying, give a little, it won�t hurt. Maybe like Dominique Lapierre before me, you'll discover yourself. Their address is: Shishu Bhavan, 78, A.J.C. Bose Road, Calcutta 700 014.

Farzana Contractor