I remember when I was very young, my Dad used to bring me and my older sibling out for breakfast on Sundays. Somehow Mom never came along because she doesn’t like Indian food. We were doing the ‘Ghee Thosai/Roti Canai’ breakfast.
The shop was just opposite Dad’s office, crowded, stuffy and dirty. The one thing I remember significantly of the place was the little drain around the perimeter of the corner lot coffee shop; it was all clogged up and rather disgusting in sight and smell. And every time before entering the premise, I never dare looked down at the drain when crossing over it for fear that it would make me lose my appetite.
But the lure of my favorite ‘Ghee Thosai’ was irresistible and no dirty drain was going to stop me.
Dad insisted that we have to eat Indian food like the Indians, that is with our hands. So we ate our ‘Ghee Thosai’ with our hands. After the meal each time, I remember I always placed my ‘Dhal’-laced fingers near my nostrils to savor the aroma during the car ride home. Call it a bad habit or whatever but those ‘Dhal’-laced fingers smelled really wonderful even after washing!
Although I don’t use my hands to eat nowadays whenever I go for a ‘Ghee Thosai/Roti Canai’ breakfast with the hubby and M2, I would recall fondly of those memories and the drain!
My all time fave!
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