Food, Glorious Food!
They come rolling out when the sun sets; by nine or ten dozens of them line the central stretch of Main Bazaar. They fry potato cubes on black iron plates in puddles of oil, piling the fried bits in a planetary ring around greasy Saturn. For 10 rupes they’ll salt, spice, and adorn with a half-lemon worth of tang one leafy cup of the tempting tater tots. I was thus led into sin once, no more! No more!
I’ve discovered the juicers further west. Orange pineapple, mango, pomegranate, everything is possible and I intend to capitalize every day. Fresh juice just isn’t available in China as here in India, and I will miss it greatly. It is a goddess to me now, one of the handful of culinary delights that continues to delight me, given my undelightful diet consisting of no Indian food, nothing with milk or cheese or butter, or meat or eggs. Liver my liver, I implore you to recover quickly! Where are the pretzels, Where Oh Where my salty delicacies? Jam and curd and fresh strawberry lassis … have given me a sweet toothache!
Fortunately I have discovered salad here. It ain’t exactly green (it never is in India, I’m convinced “green” is only approximated by words in Hindi), but with sliced cabbage, cucumbers, carrots, green peppers, and tomatoes it cools the palate, and the yoghurt dressing garnished with sesame seeds tastes creamy and yet doesn’t break the rules.
Tandoori chicken … kulfi … banana splits at Haldirams … American breakfasts … mushroom lasagna … chocolate cake … thick mango shakes … this … can’t … go … on …