FOOD, the only word I love most in the English language.
This word makes me feel I’m floating on thin air amidst an orchestra. There’s something so surreal about food, be it any cuisine. I often contemplate about writing a thesis on it. I guess this is as close as I could get. If you like the sound of “We’re back, we’re hungry” from Highway on my plate, or if the word food magically creates a smile on your face, you’re a fellow gourmand and this is the ideal piece of literature for you.
My peculiar surname Dhakappa is a synonym of the word foodie. My family has been an ardent devotee of food from times immemorial. Our massive appearances are proof of our loyalty. The thought of food can lit up any Dhakappa’s day. It’s an instant comforter.
Wondering how you could help a Dhakappa in tough times? Some piping hot fish curry is all he needs to drown his worries. He will be grateful for life. You can be assured to find a camaraderie that will last a lifetime after having dined with him. However, we are all not high maintenance, sometimes a kulfi will do just fine.
My brother-in-law married into a family of connoisseurs in matters of taste. He always laughs when all our conversations begin and end with food. He finds it hard to fathom about how some of our discussions encircle on food even on the dining table. For him, we make attempts to venture into areas of art, poetry, philosophy, and action but always find a detour to good food. He has been with us for almost 5 years now; we have made him consume the gourmand potion all the Dhakappa newborns got with polio drops. This potion is not for all, and that is precisely why our friends tread carefully because a subtle disinterest or an audacious yawn in a food discussion can make a Dhakappa furious. You may as well expect a cold attitude for a few hours. To clear the air, just compliment on the textures of hot jalebi. You will recreate that magical smile. The glint in the eye will make you feel the jalebi melt in your mouth. This should be a nice tip for people trying to woo a Dhakappa. However, one should be extremely smitten to put up with them.
We aren’t alone. I am blessed to have found many food lovers for friends. We hit largest on the compatibility meter over hot bajjis in the college cafeteria. We loved the buffets. That’s where we won our money back. We talked about the best steaks in the city at every sleepover and agreed on movie schedules that caused no hindrance to our precious lunch hour. It was a mutual understanding. We go out, we eat. I graduated with assorted gourmands. Ah the joy of similarities between friends! I think I would have fared very well as a food critic. Maybe I would not even mind not being paid. It is first on my backup list, and can turn into a wonderful alternate profession.
As I bite into a crisp biscuit on a rainy Saturday I think, what would life be without food?
What would it be without food critics, the vibrancy, and aroma of fresh herbs and spices?
Ponder about it over some rich chocolate tart and the answer would be, extremely futile.