My cold fingers are crying out for buttery, soft cow hide to keep them safe and warm from this utterly inconsiderate cold snap. My winter skirts are pleading for slick black, yet fun and cheeky, hosiery to partner them on outings.
Sale or not, I must deny them both, having received a couple of friendly letters from the tax commissioner. I feel like I did when I was in the Golden Quadrangle in Milan, where every next step was another high-end designer store; another unaffordable material lust; temptation; being so close yet so very far.
So with my poor frozen fingers distracting me from purchases of the Golden Quadrangle nature, I turn my thoughts to a more affordable, satisfying golden tetrahedron. I find it difficult to resist samosas; whether for their snack-friendly pastry packaging, likeness to dumplings or that heady mix of vegetables and spices.
I get my samosa fix at Jaipur Sweets and am always amazed by the array of completely foreign sweets and desserts, as well as savoury dishes like thali, which I'm yet to sample. It's the cheap and cheerful "polyhedron composed of four triangular faces, three of which meet at each vertex" that keep me coming back.
The bubbly and blistered deep-fried flour pastry is remarkably thin for such a large package and definitely a key and favourite samosa component for me. Ignoring the oil slicks, I like to start by breaking off the uppermost tip and then munching my way to the base.
Filled with an incredibly spicy filling of potatoes, peas, carrot, cashews, cumin seeds, coriander seeds and other tongue tinglers, these samosas come with a stickily sweet (tamarind?) sauce that I drizzle all over. The sauce does help in tempering the spice heat, momentarily.
My ritual consumption of these samosa usually results in my reenactment of the wolf in a certain triple small pork serve of a fairy tale. No, I'm not gobbling bacon but rather huffing and puffing away, grinning despite the intense heat on my palate.
There's some nice symmetry after eating one of these: I can't feel my tongue, nor can I feel my glove-less frozen fingers.