Karachi Dirbar, Madras Restaurant, Bombay Garden..All these food outlets are just five minutes from my home in Sharjah. Same restaurants, same food everyday.
So I decided to cook yummy “sambar.” What better combination than little onion and ladies finger?
All set, I boiled the vegetables, added mustard and other “masalas” along with sambar, chilli, turmeric powder, tamarind water and even added dal (cereal). The aroma was tantalizing. I could see my neighbour, a security man from Sudan, opening the door and passing an envious look.
I patted myself on my back, picked up the “pakad” (Do we call it ‘vessel holder’?) and tried to pour the sambar into a vessel when the damn thing happened. The steam hit my face, I stumbled a little, the holder betrayed and the entire sambar poured on to the kitchen sink. There went my tasty sambar down the drain, literally.
I would have screamed in disgust and anger. But you, my precious friends, know me well now. What a mature guy I have turned into. All I did was frown for a second, quickly turn it into a smile and reach the phone, “Is it Bombay Garden?”