The “Mess” Adventures of a South Indian

Disclaimer:

I mean no disrespect to the North Indian cuisine.

The following words are the initial reactions of a dead tongue.

*****

I never knew at the beginning it would be this difficult. I thought I could adjust with Chapatti and Sabji. Only when you actually live in Delhi, trying the food from the restaurants here, you learn the truth. Especially, when they try to cook South Indian food. (Either there are fine-dining eateries that are world-class or roadside joints that guarantee a food poisoning. There are hardly few middle-class joints like XYZ bhavans and cafes where you can grab a meal on a regular day).

A South Indian adds in a single course, “Arusuvai,” i.e. six tastes of Salt, Hot, Sweet, Sour, Bitter and Uvarpu (I don’t know any English alternative for this word). What you get here is, only two of them-Sweet and Hot. The other four are tastes are considered “bad tastes”. Ye katta hai...

If you want the Sabji to be spicier, the eateries will give you green chillies in a plate.

Bite that.

I wonder if they will give a sugar cane if you want the Kheer to be bit sweeter.

Bite that.

In the ordinary course of living, I am a tame lamb.

Do you want to make me breathe fire? It’s simple.

Invite me for lunch. Cook something with Paneer.

Paneer is the most pathetic food substance man ever introduced to his food culture. Add anything... sweet, salt, chillies... whatever quantities you add, it will still taste the same. It will not react to any combination.

It defies the notion that cooking is the pinnacle of “biochemical reactions”.

It will not react. IT WILL NOT REACT !!!

However, you can find the perseverance of a North Indian Chef, if you try Paneer Butter Masala, Palak Paneer, Paneer Tikka, Mutter Paneer, Paneer Tomatar, Chilli Paneer... It all tastes the same.

I once wrote in the Cafeteria feedback Form, “Are we living in a desert where we don’t get any vegetables at all? Please don’t cook Paneer more than once in a week.”

The next day, they served Mashed Paneer.

So was my “affair” with Paneer. But the sinned tongue of mine was cursed to eat Paneer twice or thrice a week in the office cafeteria. The first week was tiresome.

It was a Friday.

Someone said they serve South Indian food on Fridays.

My eyes tried to run ahead of me to the cafeteria. Controlling the Niagara of Saliva was difficult.

The sight shocked me. There was a “yellow thing” waiting on the tray like a piece of... forget it. They called it “Idli”.

It was offending. I felt as if someone said some abusive words against the woman in the family. The Southies from Tamil Nadu, compare a perfect Idli to Jasmine. It means Idli should be white, shaped, aromatic and fluffy. And the Sambar they served along with that... Wait a minute... I should wipe my tears to look at this monitor clearly.

Where did I leave? Sambar.

Next to that was a tray full of Frisbees.

I wondered what Frisbees are doing in the dining hall.

I have seen people playing table tennis at one corner of the dining hall. But Frisbees?!?!

It was tagged with placard named “Dosa”.

It was the most heart-breaking moment in my life. What will a guy who has never visited the south think of our delicacies, if he eats the fake South Indian food cooked by a North Indian Chef?

The outrage did not stop there. The next item was called “Bada”. Damn.

Why not “Chotta”?

The original delicacy is called “Medhu Vadai” meaning “Soft Vadai”. But this fake "Bada" was harder and chewy like the bloody Paneer.

That evening I went to the market and bought provisions, vegetables and cooking utensils.