I CAN now tell my great-great-grandchildren that one evening at Bombay's Taj Mahal Hotel, Anton Mosimann, chef extraordinaire and culinary genius, cooked a hand-picked gourmet dinner for me. Actually, it was for me and seven others, courtesy UpperCrust, the magazine you are holding in your two hands at this moment. (Two hands, because it is too heavy for one hand.) The man is Swiss, his culinary gifts are French, his apprenticeship has stretched from Japan to the other end, and he now runs a very successful club in Mayfair, London, named after himself � Mosimann. But I don't have to tell this to readers of a gourmet magazine.

Shall I tell you of my dining companions or the food first? I think, the food. It comprised a salmon with bits of crab packed into it, scallops in a light and oil-free curry, saddle of lamb with Caesar's Salad, and the legendary bread and butter pudding, Monsieur Mosimann's signature dish. And now the guests, on my right sat Shobha De, the best selling author and the lady who launched three magazines and a dozen different columns, on my left Nina Pillai, socialite, writer, God's gift to the world. Next to her was Dilip De, gentleman horticulturist and the man who exports tulips to Holland, Sharon Prabhakar, classy singer, Asit Chandmal, le grand gourmet, Zeenat Aman, as strikingly beautiful as when she was the uncrowned queen of the Hindi cinema, and Ravi Shastri in a galla-bandh, cricketer and now commentator of equal merit.

Introductions over, we come to the main event � the dinner. It was set up at the Chambers at a civilised hour of 7.30 p.m., and before we moved in for the food, we met in the lounge. Mosimann was introduced to everybody, some old acquaintaces, some new, though I don't think he remembered anybody. This is his second visit to Bombay and this time he spent most of it at Kumarakom, the Taj's palm-crowned resort off Cochin. A little social chit-chat, and Mosimann had disappeared into the kitchen, from where he only emerged post-dessert and with the coffee. That's how all great chefs are, they spend their time at their stations of work, not doing PR exercises with the guests. He had earlier told me that that is his principle in his restaurant (club) also. "I meet the guests at the bar, find out what they would like to eat, then retire to the kitchen to cook for them." Bravo! The photographer, who had earlier taken some pictures in the kitchen, told me that he was very fast and very definite in his work.

The salmon was nice and fat with the crab meat inside, and there was ginger, a touch of onions, a little lime squeezed on, soya sauce, and lemon grass to give it an Eastern touch. There was no butter, no fat, it was cooked in its own stock. Sharon found the combination sexy, the use of ginger, so light. And Shobha De, who kept a count of things, said she would give it 6 out of 10, adding that she was not mad about coriander or lemon grass, and the ginger was a little overpowering. And Zeenat, the poor girl, is a vegetarian, ever since she can remember. Bet you did not know this, neither did we. However, Mosimann rose to the occasion and provided her every dish that matched ours. With the salmon we had a Puligny-Montrachet. Asit, who is arguably the most educated person on wines in the country, told me how difficult it was to match a suitable wine with salmon and crabmeat. The salmon is comparatively dry, the crabmeat always sweet. The white burgundy, made 100 per cent from Chardonay grapes, is dry and crisp, and goes well with salmon. But it also goes with the crabmeat. Hence it is an ideal wine for the combination. It has a taste of minerals, and leaves in the mouth a supplementary taste, not immediately attractive. In fact, the wines that followed only a vintner would understand. With the first course a dry and crisp wine, next a fruity, smoother on the palet, then a claret from Bordeaux, Chateau Latour, 1993, a great year for clarets, and then gently descending to a dessert wine.

To round it off, Dilip De found the salmon very fresh and the crabmeat enhancing the experience. And Ravi Shastri carefully made his way through his salmon. Nina Pillai, whose familiarity with food in general, and French in particular, was a discovery for me, bears a full quote: "Absolutely divine. The dish lent an Eastern flavour to the palate, especially because of the lemon grass, ginger and onions. And the food was enhanced by the superb wine. There was depth in the wine and a lightness that helped to pick the salmon out. It was like the pop in a bite of caviar. The wine was a fine complement to the food." Zeenat, meanwhile, had a Camembert Souffle that everybody eyed. Being a cheese-based souffle, Asit picked a red wine for her.

As the scallops arrived, Nina found some of the Puligny-Montrachet still in my glass. "I'll steal your Montrachet," she told me and changed glasses. The scallops were served in a bowl, with a curried sauce, but a curry with no spices, no chillies, no pepper. Very esoteric, very refined, while looking like a curry preparation. Perhaps, a concession to our taste, but only in colour and looks. It was Scallops St. Jacques, a name that comes from a romantic past. It is said that Spanish pilgrims, after a long journey, when they reached Santiago de Compostella (Service of St. James), they found the scallops in the sea around. But these were not from Santiago de Compostella and Asit Chandmal was not quite happy with them. "You can never get good scallops in India. The dish has no distinctive flavour that takes up my palate. And I couldn't taste the sauce without a spoon. Also, they should have served this along with a saucier." A complaint I share with him. Homer must have been nodding. How does the Taj expect us to spoon the curry, short of lifting the bowl and drinking it. But Shobha was charmed with it. "I'd give this one 11 out of 10." And Sharon elaborated: "The scallops were succulent, the spinach extraordinary. The sauce was very subtle, the cooking didn't take away from the natural taste of the scallops."