Boriya aichee (the food is tasty)

Feb 11
3:30 pm
Kalinga Eye Hospital, Dhenkanal

Here it finally is, my first post about FOOD. How much longer do you think I could have held out?

I don’t know how everyone isn’t 300 lbs around here - the food is fantastic. Yes, I’m a sucker for Indian in general but this stuff is awesome. I have a feeling I’m not going to be able to eat the sweet, meaty dhansak, korma and madras of Curry Original any more without craving the tasty veggie dishes of Dhenkanal. The usual is rice with dhal, and some curry or chutney or fried veggies on the side. Chapati (roti) is also standard breakfast fare. I’ve had some great market food too (and no market belly problems!):
- dosa for 6 rupees (that’s 18 cents Cdn; who knew you could beat Johor Bharu prices, eh Em?)
- bora (fried and delicious)
- breadchop (also fried… danger, danger)
-gupchu (strange crunchy spheres stuffed with a potato mixture and some tangy water, assembled as you wait with a leaf-cup in hand)
- chaat (which I can only describe as the Indian equivalent of nachos – tomatoey yet crunchy with bits of chips and things, but no cheese and instead, lots of veggies and way more chili spicy-goodness that the little jalopenos in Canada!)

I am also in love with the dining style: a test of speed, and truly hands-on. I’m afraid my little sojourn in India won’t have helped my shoveling tendencies… everyone here finishes meals in less than 10 minutes with the hand flying non-stop between the rice, dhal or curry, and mouth. I am now proficient at this no-cutlery method, and I can even scoop up the last liquids of curry or dhal with my fingers! Lots of slurping involved.

The only problem with the food so far has been the amount. No one listens when I say I’m full (“peto puri la” or “dhorkha nhai” or simply “nein” – NO!). They just keep dumping in the dhal, the rice, the curry. It’s probably also the culture. I’ve noticed that even in restaurants there’s no such thins as a ‘serving’, they just keep topping you up until you hold out your hand to refuse. My hosts here also love to give me food between meals (in the market… at neighbours’ parties… snacks from the kitchen…). Finally, after a stretch where I had five meals one day and four the next, all larger than I’m used to, I decided I had to say something. And loudly.

Success! The cook now waits for me to come into the kitchen before heaping my plate full, and last night I successfully refused dinner after a satiating evening at the market food stalls. I will therefore probably come home only 10 pounds heavier, instead of 100.

P.S. I will try to learn some tricks from the cook here so I can share the deliciousness when I get back