OF ALL the national days that are celebrated in the city every year, the one which always draws the biggest crowd is the French National Day on July 14. In fact, if one were to rank the most popular of national day functions this would top the list, followed closely by the American Consulate's July 4 party and the British High Commission's celebration of the Queen's birthday (June 2 if I remember right).

I have often wondered why that should be so. Does it mean France is the country we love the most? Or do they send out the most number of invitations? Could it be that crowds are attracted by France's gastronomic reputation and expect a gourmet experience? Or is it possibly the lure of some good French champagne and great vintage wines?

Whatever it is the Taj's Crystal Room where the event is usually held, is always so packed to the gills that every step is fraught with the very real danger of getting some excellent wine on your excellent clothes. Given that, I have formulated my rule number one for crowded cocktail parties of the French National Day variety: Always wear black. You not only look less fat, spilled red wine can't hurt it.

Is there a rule number two?

There is. When you are at one of these receptions why bother to move around? Find the least crowded spot and wait there. People will finish their small talk and move on, allowing you to meet the next lot.

And rule number three? Rule number three is the least glamorous but most practical. Eat at home. So no gourmet treats, but who wants to queue to eat? It seems expats don't mind waiting in line to get their plateful of foie gras, smoked salmon and Blue Stilton, plus whatever canapés are on offer. That strikes me as extremely odd: you would think foreign nationals, especially those working in `hardship' areas like India get massive allowances to import food and drink, so why would they brave the jostling crowds for more of the same? Perhaps they are addicted; just because we haven't heard of Pate Addiction; it doesn't mean that it does not exist.

What are the English addicted to? My recent trip to Britain confirms yet again this old truism: England may now have a huge variety of cuisines on offer, but their staple diet, the one they will always fall back on, is British pub grub.

Cottage pie for sure, then bangers and mash, steak and kidney pie...and now chicken tikka, pappodams and samosa.

Why can't we replicate the success of English pubs? My theory is that our restaurateurs can never imagine doing something so basic.

They will always prettify or dandify an interior, and once you have done that, you no longer have the essentials of a traditional English tavern. This time I went to a pub which was truly tiny on one side, with room for barely two tables and six chairs. But people were there all right, happy to stand, or braving the two or three unsteady bar stools around. The idea, I suppose, is to have an ambience so casual that you feel instantly at home. And subconsciously assume that because things are so down to earth, the prices must be down to earth too.

They aren't of course. But after a couple of drinks, who notices?

Mumbai has a pub called Geoffrey's on the ground floor of the Marine Plaza hotel in Marine Drive. It does draw an early crowd of expats downing a few drinks before the trudge back home. But Geoffrey's is clearly a faux English pub. It's too sleek, too comfortable, and too orderly to be anything but an imitation of the real thing. In other words, Geoffrey's is an Indian English pub, which occasionally serves Indian English liquor.