Tea- a three letter word that carries itself so well.
When I say tea, I mean a cup of honey and lemon flavoured green tea with lots of sugar in particular. Tea has given me infinite number of second chances at life. For three days straight, I cry. On the fourth day I get up and make a cup of tea and the world is a good place again. My will to live sometimes resides in my tea cup.
Tea has taught me “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”
I’m rightly in my caffeinated era and the way I make coffee offends my mother.
Full milk, double the usual amount of coffee powder, lots and lots of sugar. Pour it from a height into the fanciest mug in the house and sprinkle a pinch of coffee powder on the froth. Most of it sticks to my fingers.
Now mama makes coffee for me this exact same way even though she thinks it’s the wrong way to make coffee.
When I love someone too much, I want them to eat well.
To watch people you love eat their stomach full is one thing I secretly enjoy.
When I miss him, I order a Chocolate Excess pastry and dig in.
Food is love.
When I moved to Pondicherry, a phase of my life was pretty French cafés by the sea, the smell of cakes and croissants.
Auroville Bakery’s cold coffee is heaven. I love how my friend describes it ‘satiating’. (I bet she has a word for everything). I like watching my friend eat Richy Rich’s Chicken Dosa. The way she eats make you love her more. These are huge memories you take back when you leave the city.
Food is a memory.
A small ball of rice, dhal, ghee and a small piece of fish fry hidden in it like a surprise is one indestructible memory of home (or my grandmother).
After I left home, the whole idea of comfort food did change. An M Crunchy Burger and Cola is my broke girl comfort food. When my body feels repulsive to all the junk I’ve been consuming, I order a Creamy Chicken Tikka Rice Bowl from The Good Bowl to settle my stomach and soul.
Once in a while I order a Blue Berry Cheesecake, not because I particularly like the taste of it but because the three words sounds appealing to my soul when put together. Yes! “Blue Berry Cheesecake”
Papa made a tomato fry when mama was pregnant with me. This is one of the best stories she had. He took a leap of faith and cracked an egg on top of it. (Chef’s Kiss). For some reason the smell of the dish made mama puke. And I think this is cute.?
When I was seven and my sister five, we sat out to watch the stars. I sat on papa’s lap and she on mama’s. Papa pointed to the sky and told me you get TANG when you go to cloud. The white door opens and a man comes out and ask you to sit first and then ask you if you would like orange TANG or yellow TANG. I can’t stop believing it! And for that reason when I look at clouds I taste TANG.
I have a friend who cooks food that looks so good, I bet it tastes even more better.
He said: “when i cook, i feel good
i feel like i am made to make good things”
Made me love him more.
Family dine outs were all about crunchy porotta and chilly chicken from Woodbine and 1/2 hot and sour chicken soup me and my sister savoured spoon by spoon. At the end of the meal, we were allowed two scoops of chocolate ice-cream each and a mandatory glass of hot water right after it. Love that came with a precaution.
I’m a huge sucker for food movies! The ‘You can never have too much butter’ scene from “Julie and Julia” cures my soul. Helen in the movie says: “Every time you taste something that’s delicious beyond imagining and you say, “What is in this?”, the answer is always going to be, Butter! The day there’s a meteorite heading toward the earth and we have thirty days to live, I am going to spend it eating butter”.
