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/ / Incoming Transmission / /

< / PART 2: A Hungry South Indian’s Guide to Night City>   

Good day to you beautiful folks in Night City! if you are like me; a disgruntled, hungry, often sad foodie who came to Night City with the hopes of making it Big then this article is for you! That’s right! because you can never hope to conquer the streets of night city on an empty stomach ( assuming you do have one..) . and I'm not talking about Kibble or those nasty Prepacks from All Foods or Synth food that makes you stomach CHURN ( God! I hate the Eezy Beef! ). I'm talking bout fresh food folks (that ought to get your attention!) , what most people may not know is that Fresh food ain't just the luxury of the Elite or the filthy rich. You common sheep too can get to savor the flavors of fresh food in the Streets and beyond that is if you know where to look and only if you have the right connections. ( You guys can thank me later! ). So here is a full day of my eating escapades in Night City.

A brief note on Indian food. Indian Cuisine has a multitude of flavors but  Indians really do like spicy food and most dishes here have a spicy undertone. But there is no dearth of sweet food here. Indian cuisine is a melting pot of varied cultures and that just makes it worthy to be in the market stalls of Night City as well; Spicy, Feisty, sometimes sweet but it  always makes you want to have more! 

1. 8:00 AM < // Wake The F**k Up Samurai! // >

Wake up early and head downtown. There is a very successful little store by the name of Ambrosia. Head over there for the best Kibble you'll ever have in your life time. Now you may thinking “What Kibble? That bland, grainy, dry stuff ? ” Well yes. You see, my friend Laila who runs Ambrosia has cracked the code for making Kibble taste great. The secret? Just add delectable Indian Spice Mix to them but the rest of the process though is pretty much as closed lipped as Arasaka Tower. But who cares? If you want the most nutritious, soft, aromatic and tastiest breakfast yet, give it a go. Truly it is a feast worthy for gods.  

 2. 11:00 AM < // Time For some snacks // >

Well it’s Almost Mid-day and I already feel hungry so I head to Pacifica. I have a good frenemy named Josh there that sells these amazing one of a kind banana chips form South India. The perfect combination of crusty texture, crispy feels, yellowish glow and the glory that is fried food. The Indomitable Fried banana chips. These are available for a very hefty price in the American markets but because you know me and Josh you may get it at a discount. It also comes in a nifty protective package for eating on the go. Just don’t take Jobs from Josh. There is a reason why we are frenemies.    

 3. 2: 00 PM (Nearby Pacifica) < / A drink for every occasion / >

A Merc in Night City can’t function on an empty stomach or low energy levels. Luckily for us, my brothas from the Animals have a solution for that. They have got a great cocktail of muscle building boosters, fresh strawberries, Lime, bananas and vodka, perfect for keeping those gains on the road or while fighting the bad guys. Where do they get these strawberries and Bananas from? Well lets just say they are not just pumped up freaks and they do know a bit about greenhouses too. It is possible to be barely natty in Night City too.  I present thee the drink dubbed “ Strawberry Pump Haze 3XT ”. 

5.  6: 00 PM < // Some more snacks by the Pier // >

In the bustling markets of the piers you will find a small, and very shanty looking store by the name of Singh’s Chow. At first glace it may not be much but in actuality it is a very successful smuggling front for premium Indian Spices. If you are an immigrant Indian like me this is the go to place if you want to bathe in the nosh-talgia of home. [ This was pretty difficult to find but I have my sources ] . Although be warned, they do not take kindly to strangers meddling in their business so it will be good to establish a rapport with them or have an Indian friend recommend you as a customer. It is home to the only place where you’ll find an Indian take on a dumpling or pierogi. It is a sweet dish made with wheat with fillings of coconut, brown sugar and a whole lot of goodness. 

4.  9:00 PM < // To The Afterlife Choombas! // >

Now after a long day of eating, evading the Police, Gangsters and doing Merc jobs it is best to head to the Afterlife to wind down (Albeit with a gun in hand though). For The Men among Boys do yourself a favor and get the Club  Exclusive Johnny Silverhand. Waft in its glory, Get High and Get Moving for we always have some barbeque, steaks and Parottas to burn. 

5. 11:00 PM  < // Somewhere in the Badlands // >

Now because it is the weekend and I have got nothing better to do, I head out to the badlands. A few months ago I had to Win a death race in my pursuit of exploring the tastes of Night City or its Peripheries. Fast forward a month I am now thick friends with a tight knit nomad group that mainly consists of immigrants from India (Name classified). The Fourth Corporate War was not kind to their livelihood and they were forced to settle in the Badlands taking up illegal smuggling from India to the United States and vice-versa. Now these guys are the real deal. they can get access to a lot of Livestock. Don't know how they get it though. Today I was invited to a weekly community barbeques and I offered my services to cook them a proper Indian dish; The Chicken Biriyani . they just had to get the ingredients. Trust me when I say “ Trust the Nomads”  cos they can get any ingredient you want! So here I was preparing the dish in the open flame. Basking under the Night Sky with a few friends I had made along the way. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

< // Tune in Next Time for news on the best chows and drinks in Night City. Next up is a special mystery edition //>

Until then this is Avid Foodie chippin' out !

P.S : 

“Purple rain”

My “Kitsch” submission for Cyberpunk 2077 challenge is here!

Tried my best to make it as much “Kitsch” as possible. Not sure if I succeeded but it looks at least pretty cyberpunk-ish if I dare say so myself (¬‿¬). 

There was only one place in all of Night City that V could ever be sure to find the best tamales on a Sunday afternoon. That was a little corner bodega south of the Wellsprings that looped over to The Glen. You’d miss it if you didn’t know about it. It was tucked between two side streets and tagged up with gang graffiti – most recently the Valentinos reclaimed their turf on it. It was a marker that the bodega was under their protection. If anyone messed with them, they’d get a less than polite visit.

V found the bodega after driving past it twice and parked his car. They eyed the rest of the rides packed in on the street – bumper to bumper, which explained the line of people by the bodega. It took them a second to remember the monthly neighborhood cookout on the third Saturday followed by the charity drive on Sunday, where food was given out to those who won the raffle.  A raffle to make sure at least a few unfortunate souls would eat for the week in Heywood.

It had been months since V last paid a visit and joined in. They winced, weighing the options of going in for a plate because they were craving Padre’s famous tamales.

Eventually the growling of their stomach had them biting the bullet and slinking into the bodega. Right away they knew they were out of place, between the scowls and muttered Spanish cuss words as people assumed V was cutting the line.

“Not for the raffle.” V assured them.

“Mh-hmm.” A teenaged father gave them the evil eye as they slipped toward the back counter where Padre was packing pre-made tamales and pozole in plastic containers.

“V!” Padre grinned, weary-eyed and rushed as he handed a tweaker a bag of food from across the counter. Padre slipped them a parchment paper wrapped puffed pastry coated in powdered sugar – sopaipillas. “Eat this first, niño – por favor.” Padre instructed the young man as he bowed his head in blessing with thanks.

V didn’t watch him leave, knowing not to comment on the likelihood of a tweaker selling that food for whiff money. Instead, they turned their gaze on the display of food. The rack of pulled pork, the trays of carnitas, poblanos, and homemade tortillas as well as the large container of horchata.  It was an occasion every month where Padre pulled out all the stops to show good will to the people of Heywood. On more than one occasion V had been lucky to receive such good will themself. 

The scent of roasted peppers and sofrito base of onions, tomatoes, and cilantro left their mouth watering as they tried to decide between asking for a tamale or a tray of something else. It all looked better than what he had at home. Certainly better than the corpo sponsored crap he’d been eating the last few weeks between jobs. 

V hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks. Hell, they couldn’t remember the last time they had a good meal. They’d only had meal bars, protein bars, and stale drinks dispensed from the vending machines.  All of it was reconstituted, rehydrated, synthetic lab grown crap Corps spent billions of eddies getting the public into thinking they needed the cheap affordable meal replacements - supplemented by vita drinks and bars to make sure you got your nutrients.  No, Corps wouldn’t want the lower end to have an organically grown meal, would they?  

“Let me guess…” Padre chuckled. “Tamales?”

“Come on, Padre. For old time’s sake?” V asked. “I’ve even got the eddies.” They held up a cred chip to show he was serious. 

Padre stared him down, whilst his hands moved and served another raffler before sighing. “You’re lucky you’re one of my favorites. Get behind the counter.” 

“Wait..what?” 

“I said behind the counter. And put that away. Your eddies are no good here. You’re more valuable helping out.” Padre tutted and handed them an apron. 

And like that, V was busy working the bodega counter. Taking and filling orders and occasionally helping a cholo out with their ride when they rolled up with trouble, selling lucy’s on the downlow to kids sent by their folks. 

At the end of the lunch rush, Padre walked over with V’s very own bag to take home. 

“Mira, para ti.” Padre held it out to him.

“I’m starving. Gracias, Padre.” 

 “De nada.” Padre waved his hand and pulled V into an open hug. “Now go, before you get stuck here all day. And don’t be a stranger, cabron. We miss you. Next time come on Saturday to help prep.”