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Don't be stingy with the spice |
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By: Nicole Jones |
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Date:
2008-10-30 |
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Place: Bangalore |
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 Yes, I know I'm white. But I'd like my food spicy. I've said these words about a dozen times since I've been in India. Usually they don't seem to make much of an impact. The looks I get from waiters and chefs are usually either indifferent or concerned.
I can see the thoughts running through their heads, "Crazy American. She doesn't know what spicy is." But I do! I've tried to explain. Usually, though, in an effort to protect my delicate palate, another display of Indian hospitality, my curry doesn't come packing the punch I crave. Sure, it's disappointing, but it's ultimately hard to be down when something tastes so good even if it doesn't bring tears to my eyes.
I love Indian food. And I do like it hot. Dal and dosa, kormas and curries. Why go out for pizza or sushi when there is a rich, spicy curry on the table? I happened to be walking around my neighborhood with some friends the other day, looking for a good place to lunch. We wandered into a restaurant called The Plantain Leaf, in Indiranagar.
We were the only non-Indians there, and I'm sure the staff thought we were lost. Before they could push us out of the door, we grabbed a table and ordered. Many minutes later, our food came out, on shining green banana leaves, with the wonderful, biting scent of chilli wafting all around.
Diving in with just my hands, looking very messy and unrefined, I took my first bite of really hot food. It did bring tears to my eyes, but after a big gulp of water, I went back for more. |
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