Indian Tonic – Food

First lunch in Chennai – jetlag adds to my usual craving for Indian food. Unlike the taxi driver’s, the waiter’s English is excellent. This and the sophisticated décor remind me that the restaurant caters to foreigners, though I can see a lot of locals around me. I order a curry with a name I will not even try to remember, and ask for “medium spicy”. At home I often go for “spicy” but this is the birthplace of spices and I’d rather not cry like a baby and run for the fire extinguisher on my first lunch – there will be plenty of time for this later. After a short wait the food comes. It is bursting with rich flavors that fill my mouth with delight. This is about as spicy as I can eat. I wonder if the waiter forgot about my tea. Probably reading my mind, he brings the tea in a cute little metal cup. I take a sip… this tea is lukewarm and tastes like watered down lemon juice. My heart stops. This is finger rinse! As my chances of getting sick go through the roof, I display a level of phlegm only observed among British folk. I put down the finger rinse slowly as if nothing happened, and I go on eating my curry. The waiter comes out of the kitchen with my tea.

***

For my last dinner in Chennai I chose the Raintree restaurant at the exclusive Taj Hotel. The drink menu features $10 cocktails – good thing this meal is not on my tab. The waiter brings appetizers and a full pallet of colorful and flavorful dipping sauces … as well as the oh-so-familiar metal cup. “Finger rinse” says the waiter. I smile to myself at the thought of the thousands of dumb foreigners who had a taste. Do waiters in this restaurant get trained to prevent white folks from embarrassing themselves? After an hour of feasting on amazing dishes I discreetly loosen my belt and realize that these few days in Chennai will remain with me for a bit longer than I intended. The waiter brings the check and a few green bites that he describes as palate cleansers. Why not? I put one in my mouth and start chewing. This thing has the texture and thickness of a banana leaf: no matter how hard I chew there is no way to cut it or reduce it to anything I can swallow. Five minutes later the thought of spitting it out becomes very tempting. My pride is much more likely to swallow the embarrassment than I am likely to swallow this thing. Warmth in my jaws as the effort intensifies. Finally the palate cleanser makes its way down my esophagus… I hear a thump as it hits the bottom of my stomach.

Let me wash this down with some finger rinse.

Cedric 6/04/2011
(Chennai trip in December 2010)

1 Comment

  • My friend Morgane flies to India for food !!!!!!! She even comes baxk with food for her family because she loves it !!!! I’ll ask her if she also likes lemon tea 😉