'Anybody know of a good
Italian place near Brigade, preferably pizza?' I'm not sure this guy even knew
what he wanted. Pizza is a broad term that in this country usually has nothing
to do with Italian cuisine. And I won't complain; have you ever tried
the local ketchup version? Anyway, I didn't have a suggestion for him. Looking
for something specific in India in terms of dining out, unless you're not
broke, is literally rocket science. I mean, have you been to the food courts in
our malls? You think for a second that you've finally found a cheap quesadilla
stall, when boom! Out pops a paneer tikka-naan combo. You know, for the
faint-hearted. You could even have fries with that. The point is, our
restaurants refuse to commit to a specialty. In fact we will go far enough to
Indianize the few dishes we do attempt. Ketchup pizzas ain't got nothing on
tandoori sauce in a burger drowning in God knows what they put in that white
thing they call mayo. Or tartar or ranch.
And that's perfectly okay. Unless you try to make it work the
other way around. Take a deprived-of-Calcutta-rolls Bengali to the Kaati Zone
here and watch with diabolical glee as he spits out his first bite while he
yells 'Jogonno!' Observe the aunty at a kitty party recounting the horrors of
her last night's dinner invitation nightmare at a south Indian home as she
swears she tasted tamarind in the dal makhani. All this while they enjoy a bowl
of chips and, oh wait, that's not salsa, is it?
We are very traditional people, okay, we take our cuisines
seriously. Unless, you know, it's a cuisine we know nothing about. In that
case, what the hell, throw in a little garam masala. I think it's just that we
try too hard to please. Well, at least we're overt hypocrites about all of it.
Now shut up and try this homemade cake already. It's eggless.
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