Train food

There are trains going from almost everywhere to almost everywhere in India. It's one of the most extensive rail networks on the planet, with some mind-boggling stats: around 20 million people travel by train every day, and Indian Railways is the world's largest utility employer with 1.5 million staff. Alongside cricket, the rail network is rightfully one of the proudest legacies of the British Raj. Everyone uses the trains and rail travel transcends class borders. As a traveller in India, I simply can't imagine how the country would function without the railways.

Keeping long rail journeys entertaining is the endless variety of food and drink which is peddled up and down carriages and on platforms. Unlike the limited offering of crisps, chocolate and bland, day-old sandwiches on British cross-country trains, on an Indian rail journey you'll be presented with a riot of different snacks - something new at every stop. Roving vendors jump aboard at every station, calling out their tasty offerings as they hurry up and down the carriages.

An early-morning journey we took from Bangalore to Mysore started with a chai wallah doing the rounds with a big flask of sweet, milky tea. Hot on his heels came vendors offering breakfast treats. We tried battered, deep-fried bananas and savoury biscuits made from subtly-spiced potato, onion and cauliflower - everything always freshly-cooked and still warm.

The return trip in the evening brought fresh peanuts in their shells, packed into slim newspaper cones, passed through the bars on the train windows. We also had savoury, spiced doughnuts, crunchy on the outside and soft inside, served on a cardboard plate with cooling coconut chutney.

On another journey, a rural stop somewhere between Goa and Mumbai featured tasty vada pao: golf-ball-sized, deep-fried spicy potato patties, served in a square of the Mumbai Mirror with little soft white bread rolls, green chillies and chutney; all the ingredients you need to make a delicious vege burger.

As we approached Mumbai on that same train, we tasted bhelpuri as good as you get anywhere in the city.

Indian wine

India's fledgling wine industry is turning out some surprisingly drinkable drops. A clutch of wineries (commendable names include Chateau Indage, Sula Vineyards and Grover Wines) have established positive reputations and are easily found on restaurant menus and in wine shops all over the country.

There is no reason why India should not be able to produce good wine. Several parts of the country have suitable climate and soil conditions. One of the most promising so far is Nasik in Maharashtra, north of Mumbai. The area benefits from a cool, maritime-influenced climate, a hilly landscape and well-drained soils. Over the past decade, these factors have allowed producers to turn out respectable wine from international varietals including chardonnay, chenin blanc, sauvignon blanc, cabernet sauvignon, shiraz and zinfandel.

What's more, with wine drinking quickly gaining popularity among India's burgeoning middle class, there is a huge opportunity for ambitious local producers to focus on quality and grab market share from importers.

Tasting note: Sula Chenin Blanc 2008

Pale lemon in colour with a crisp citrus aroma. Light-bodied and off-dry with good acid balance. More zingy citrus on the palate - lemons and grapefruit - rounded out by ripe tropical pineapple and melon notes. Medium to long length. More than quaffable.

Industry pioneer Sula Vineyards is located 15km west of Nasik and offers winery tours and tasting. www.sulawines.com.

Mumbai

Mumbai is a city of jarring contrasts. Grand British-built edifices - monuments to the glory days of a vanished empire - loom over streets teeming with ordinary Indian daily life: vendors, beggars, sweepers and shoppers. Oxen pull cartloads of goods as smartly-dressed middle class Mumbaikers whiz past in their BMWs. Rickshaws, bicycles, scooters and 1950s Ambassador taxis honk and fight for space on the clogged streets.

Underneath a billboard advertising luxury bathroom fit-outs, a family crouches on the dusty footpath, their belongings tied in bundles beside them. The mother is cutting up vegetables to cook for dinner, right there on the pavement. They make the residents of nearby Dharavi slum, one of Asia's largest, look wealthy. Meanwhile, Bollywood stars sip cocktails at swanky bars in the city's upmarket suburbs.

There are places to escape to if it all gets too much. The green, palm-fringed Oval Maidan, where so many social cricket matches are underway on any given afternoon that their outfields overlap, is one of them. And the vast Taj Palace Hotel, in pride of place on the waterfront next to the massive stone Gateway of India arch, offers ridiculously-priced cups of tea and cucumber sandwiches to weary sightseers.

We found refuge in the tiny Kotachiwadi neighbourhood, near Chowpatty Beach. One of the several wadis, or hamlets, in Mumbai that somehow escaped the bulldozers as high-rise office blocks grew around them, Kotachiwadi is a Christian enclave of quaint wooden houses and winding lanes - a village within a city. Its streets are too narrow for taxis, cars and rickshaws, so the area is blissfully free of honking horns. Wandering the lanes reveals a quiet life, with many residents operating small businesses such as tailor shops out of their homes.

Every evening, people swarm on to Mumbai's beaches to see the sun dip below the Arabian Sea horizon. Dozens of food stalls offer up street food snacks to the crowds. Competition is fierce - the stall holders will do anything to get you to eat at their stall, from shoving their menu in your face as you walk past, to offering free samples. Whichever one you choose, you'll be able to taste Mumbai favourites such as bhelpuri, a tasty and crunchy mix of puffed rice, chopped onions and tomatoes, thin spicy besan sticks, coriander leaves, lemon zest and chutney. We also got stuck in to pav bhaji, a spicy vegetable curry served with little bread rolls fried in ghee; and pani puri, small hollow balls of crisp fried pastry filled with spicy tamarind water and potato.

Cruising the backwaters, Kerala

Around 900km of interconnected lakes and canals make up Kerala's extraordinary, watery "backwaters". It's like an enormous, rural Venice, with houses lining the edges of the waterways and residents carrying out their daily errands by canoe. The only solid bits of ground are the canal banks, which are just wide enough for one house and the narrow tow path which links the houses. As far as you can see is nothing but water, rice paddies, coconut palms and banana trees.

The best way to observe all this is from the deck of a traditionally-styled house boat, which can be chartered for scenic and relaxing one or two-night excursions. In between eating the delicious meals cooked by your onboard chef, you can while away the hours in a wicker chair or day bed, watching the endlessly fascinating backwater life go by as you cruise the labyrinth of canals.

Our excellent onboard cooks treated us to huge spreads of authentic Keralan food: crispy-fried, delicate and moist whole fish; tasty vegetable curries; steamed vegetables flavoured with coconut, mustard seeds, turmeric and curry leaves; and a rich, dark chicken curry.

The residents of the backwaters bathe, brush their teeth, wash their clothes and do their dishes in the murky water of the canals. They cross the water by canoe or bridge several times a day to get to school, church or the shops. But I got the feeling the backwaters both sustain and threaten people's livelihoods in this low-lying community. We saw a few houses flooded with a foot or more of water, with many other residents reinforcing the banks outside their homes with sandbags against the rising water level.

Recipes for a Keralan feast

Many guest houses in Fort Cochin offer cooking classes, which offer a fun way to gain a deeper understanding of Keralan food. Predictably, coconuts are a very common ingredient in the cuisine of this part of India. Garlic and shallots are also almost always used, along with turmeric. Most vegetable dishes include cumin.

Here are the recipes we made at our cooking class. NB:

• Cup measures in the recipes are tea cups.
• Coconut oil adds an authentic flavour dimension, but sunflower oil is fine.
• Where curry leaves are called for, don't substitute anything if they are unavailable - just leave them out.

Keralan fish curry - serves 4

This special dish is traditionally reserved for weddings or festivals. Make the curry 1.5 days before it is to be served, to allow the flavours to properly infuse.

500g firm fish fillets, cubed; or prawns

1/2 finger sized piece of ginger

6-7 cloves garlic

1-2 shallots

10-14 curry leaves

1 tsp mustard seeds

4-5 tsp tamarind paste, soaked for 10 min in a cup of water

FOR THE MASALA:

1/2 tsp turmeric

1/2 tsp ground fenugreek (not more or it will be bitter)

4-5 tsp chilli powder (preferably Kashmiri)

1/2 glass water

Combine ingredients and set aside.

Finely slice the garlic, ginger and shallots. In a pan over a medium heat, add 4 tbsp coconut or sunflower oil. Add the mustard seeds and when they pop, add the garlic, ginger, shallots and curry leaves. Sauté.

Add the masala to the softened vegetables, and stir in the pan until it darkens and separates - this is called "roasting the masala". Add more oil if it dries out too much. Add the tamarind paste and 1 further cup of water (1/2 cup if using prawns). Add a big pinch of salt and stir.

Add the fish, cover and cook until the fish is just done.

Green Banana Thoral - serves 4

This tasty recipe suits almost any vegetable - cabbage, carrot, potato, parsnip, pumpkin, spinach etc.

300g green bananas or other veg, diced

1 onion, finely chopped

A couple of cloves of garlic, finely chopped

1 green chilli, finely chopped

1/2 tsp ground cumin

1/2 tsp turmeric

1 cup fresh grated coconut or 3/4 cup desiccated coconut, soaked for 10-15 minutes in warm water

Remove the banana skin with a vegetable peeler before dicing the flesh. Keep in a bowl of water to prevent browning.

Combine all ingredients in a pan over medium heat and add half a glass of water (don't add water if using soft veges, eg spinach or mushrooms). Stir and add salt to taste. When cooked, fold in some mustard seeds and curry leaves that have been sautéed in coconut oil until the seeds pop, as a garnish.

Dhal - serves 4

1 cup orange split lentils, rinsed

2 1/2 cups water

1 tsp sunflower oil

1/2 tsp turmeric

1 tomato, diced

1 onion, finely chopped

Combine all ingredients in a pan and cook over medium heat for 15-20 min.

FOR THE MASALA:

1 tsp mustard seeds

1-2 shallots, finely chopped

6-10 cloves garlic, finely chopped

6-7 curry leaves

1 tsp ground cumin

1 tsp chilli powder (or more if you like a spicy dhal)

Pop the mustard seeds in the oil over a medium to high heat. Add the shallots, garlic and curry leaves. Sauté to soften.  Turn up the heat and add the spices. Add this masala to the cooked lentils, and add salt to taste. Boil for five minutes. Garnish with chopped coriander leaves.

Pea Masala - serves 4

You can use either chickpeas or green peas. Soak chickpeas overnight.

200g peas

1 shallot, finely chopped

3-4 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 tomato, diced

1 cup coconut milk

FOR THE MASALA:

1/2 tsp turmeric

2 tsp ground coriander

1 tsp ground cumin 

1/2 tsp chilli powder

1/2 tsp finely ground black pepper

1 tsp garam masala

Add a little water and mix to combine.

Sauté the shallots and garlic in 3 tbsp oil. Add the masala and "roast" for three or four minutes until dark and separated. Add the tomato and peas, with a little water if using fresh or frozen green peas. Add coconut milk and cook for 5 minutes. Add salt to taste.

When cooked, fold in some mustard seeds and curry leaves that have been sautéed in coconut oil until the seeds pop, as a garnish.

Chapati - serves 4

2 cups whole wheat flour

1 cup lukewarm water

1/4 tsp salt (added to the water)

Mix into a dough and knead for 2-3 minutes. Add 2 tsp sunflower oil and knead lightly. Leave at room temperature for half an hour.

Form golf ball sized balls of dough and roll in flour. Roll out the balls until 1-2 mm thick. Get a dry frying pan hot and add the chapati one by one. Warm both sides first, then brush with oil and brown on both sides. Eat straight away while still hot.

Fort Cochin

Sleepy Fort Cochin is only a short ferry ride from mainland India but it might as well be on another planet. In Ernakulam, the mainland part of the city of Cochin, the streets are crowded with the usual crush of rickshaws, scooters, stray dogs, stray cows and people. Fort Cochin is a dramatic contrast. A Portuguese colonial outpost from the beginning of the 16th century, the town has escaped modern development; leaving crumbling mansions looming over streets shaded by lush, mature trees. Several of the mansions have been sensitively restored to their former glory and now serve as gorgeous boutique hotels: think airy verandas, billowing muslin, wicker chairs and teak. It's a place to escape to for a few days to unwind and refresh. We might have even forgotten that we were in India, were it not for the suffocating January heat and humidity.

An impressive sight on the northern tip of the island are a row of enormous Chinese fishing nets. These massive, cantilevered wooden structures are still in daily use and you can watch groups of up to six fishermen lowering each one into the water and raising them up again, ideally containing fish. Beside the nets every evening, several stalls appear selling fish so fresh some of them were still gasping. We bought a dozen big tiger prawns and persuaded the proprietor of a nearby restaurant to coat them in tandoori marinade, impale them on long skewers and plunge them into the smoky, searing depths of the tandoor oven.

Hampi

Hampi, site of the once great but now ruined city of Vijayanagar, is a hot and dusty place in central south India. It's a firm favourite on the backpackers' circuit but still offers a taste of the 'real' India. There are people scrubbing clothes and bathing down at the river ghats. Cows, dogs, roosters and monkeys share the dirt streets with women in bright saris carrying basket loads of everything on their heads.

Over the river from the sacred centre of Hampi Bazaar you can stay in huts arranged around gardens, with restaurants overlooking the rice paddies. Ours had a chill-out area of low tables and cushions where we passed a couple of lazy afternoons resting our sightseeing-weary feet. Every now and then a cow would wander across the rice paddy. Each cow had a white bird hopping along beside it (don't ask me what kind of bird). The bird would jump up and peck the flies or insects that landed on the cow. Seems a mutually-beneficial partnership.

Hampi has a whole lot of uninspiring restaurants and one excellent one: Mango Tree, which you reach via a path through a banana plantation. The atmosphere is lovely, with terraced seating so everyone gets a view of the river. It's a vegetarian restaurant but the choice of dishes on the lengthy menu is overwhelming. My mixed vegetable "mango tree special curry" was sweet and smoky.

We tried our first Indian street food in Hampi: idli (spongy and rather plain fermented rice cakes) dipped in spicy sambar and coconut chutney and served with deep-fried battered green chillies.