Over the course of these columns, dear reader, you have been treated (if that is the word I am looking for) to a variety of topics, but anybody with even a passing interest in this space on a weekly basis knows that I talk most passionately about food.
Whether it be restaurants in Pune, thalis in Ahmedabad, mangoes in summer or anything else – your columnist lives, as it were, to eat.
And the reason I bring this up is because this past week, I was in Bangalore.
A younger Kulkarni would have written this column about Bangalore’s beer, or about it’s Coorgi pork fry, or about it’s biryanis. But an older, wiser Kulkarni knows that if there is to be a column about Bangalore and food, it must be about one thing, and one thing only.
That, by the way, is not an error on my part – the capitalization of the “D” in the Dosa. For other places in India and the world may well serve what they think is a dosa, but in my humble opinion, Bangalore and Bangalore alone serves the version that deserves to stand head and shoulders above absolutely everything else.
Folks from that fair city have their preferences, it is true, about where the best dosa is to be had.
Some swear by Vidyarthi Bhavan, others by MTR, still others by CTR – and there are other options. Me, personally? I do not really have a horse in this race – any of the places noted above, and some others (but not all!), are just fine by me.
But at these places, the Dosa takes on an avatar that proves the munificence of god. It is plump, thick and alluringly soft on the inside, yieldingly soft and gentle on the palate and the taste buds. But on the outside – ah, on the outside it is military grade crisp. And, and this is the point where I give up on trying to control my drool, the outside is redolent with ghee. Oodles and oodles of it.
Other restaurants outside of these select few in Bangalore, and most other cities in India manage one or the other, but never both at the same time. Dosas will either be soft and fluffy, or impossibly crisp – but only Bangalore manages both at the same time.
And if I may, dear reader, a word of advice. When you tear off the first piece from the plate that is kept in front of you, do not make the mistake of dipping it into the chutney.
Savor the moment. Look at the dosa, and feel the outside and the inside. Relish the contrast. Smell it, and then pop it into your mouth. Close your eyes, and let your taste buds start believing in the existence of god. Repeat the process a couple of times, and then proceed to devour the rest of The Dosa.
Order another for best results.
And oh, best accessorized with two cups of filter coffee – but then again, you knew that already, didn’t you?
He doesn't expect the paradox to be resolved in his lifetime
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