Cheta, Oru Plate Appam...

It's funny how one article can get you thinking and writing more in the same vein...Well; this author has gone into the same mode…and hold on, let me warn you, this may not be the only one of the same genre. If David Dhawan and Priyadarshan can get off making silly movies by the dozen passing them off as humor and if Ridley Scott can keep making war epics, why can’t this poor self write another one of his attempts at humor...or whatever you’d like to call it.

Well, it so happened that yours truly and his best friend decided to go out for a dinner. Well, very little of a choice for both actually, since the only thing we knew to do well was hogg (that’s hog with a double g… just for the impact). The place was also the very usual ‘Southern Spice’ a supposedly authentic Keralite joint. The restaurant can be passed on as genuine, since the waiters do speak Malayalam (That’s a good enough certificate, especially considering the trouble, your author has spent just trying to understand the language, well more about the language later) and they don’t gawk at your eating capabilities, a talent that only mallus have, and something only mallus appreciate. Well since your author and his friend turned out to have mallu origins this was pretty much a natural place to go.

Entering the restaurant, we were greeted with huge smiles. The owner having served us before realized the huge check that awaited him, had a couple of good words to say. Southern Spice is truly decorated in the traditional Keralite mould, of course I must say, pretty scarcely decorated, considering the Kerala touch was limited to a small replica of the famous snake boat and a few paintings of ‘Kathakali’ and the backwaters. Oh yes, there was the fishing net hooked to the ceiling, though I have always wondered how it could ever remind anyone of Kerala. The fishing net always gave me the creeps, as it gave me the feeling of being the poor fish the restaurant was desperately trying to catch. Anyways deftly avoiding the net we made our way to the nearest table, table meant actually for six but which very comfortably could accommodate us, we were very soon politely reminded of our numbers and quickly moved to a more appropriate table.

The restaurant was surprisingly full of Mallus; another weird or call it interesting observation on Mallus or even we Indians for that matter. How many of us would notice an Italian in an Italian Restaurant, or a Thai in a Thai restaurant; but the moment we visit a dhaba, we are inevitably likely to see it filled with north Indian or to be more specific, Punjabis. Same is with an Udupi restaurant that is bound to be filled up with Mangloreans, right from the owner, to the waiters, to the customers and even to the beggars waiting outside, all mouthing the choicest local language and slurping the various delicacies offered. Hence, it was no surprise to see the place full of Malayalees. There were atleast two couples, one obviously in love and the other bored of it, one group of college going girls (considering they were mallus, the college had to be a nursing institute), yours truly and his friend and last but not the least was a rather large family of 6 (i.e. 5 +0.5 +0.5; the two halves standing for the two little brats who did little of eating but more of a nuisance; both to their folks as well as to all around them). This is another interesting observation yours truly has come across; you take any restaurant, say with a capacity of 10 tables; fill it up with people of all walks and you are sure to come across one table consisting of a family with atleast two little kids, who do all the running and playing around like it was a park they were taken to. The statistic holds for any seating capacity and any type of restaurant; just increase all the numbers by the same proportion. Southern spice was no exception and let me leave it at that.

We quickly got down to business and ordered a range of Malayalee cuisine, the waiter who by now was familiar with our capacities, quickly jotted down and dashed off to the kitchen. I guess the kitchen must have been warned in advance of our coming, since they seemed pretty brisk about their business. The food quickly arrived and the quantity was enough to draw glares from the adjoining tables. Someone once said, you put two mallus together and they are an amiable bunch, put five together and they form a union, however, you put ten together in two groups of five each, and both the groups will soon start commenting on each other and deriding the other. The same was in our case, we drew mixed responses actually, some glares and some were appreciative nods. It isn’t too tough to make out which group was passing which comments. While the group of girls was passing on the glares, commenting on our palate and passing sympathies to our family, the men from the other tables were quick to appreciate our talent and looked on in envy. A mallu eating multiple helpings and rounding it off with a huge burp is considered a hero, akin to Clint Eastwood firing off a one shot kill and blowing off the smoke from the gun or coming closer home; Rajnikant killing two villains with one shot, by just putting a blade in the path thus slicing the bullets.

We were quick in our work and in a jiffy and finished off a couple of plates of appams, parothas, idiappams each. After the hugely sumptuous meal, as we moved off, we could hear the girls heaving a sigh of relief, the men trying to audaciously match us and the kids, well, trying to be kids. The restaurant manager, delighted as he saw our bill was quick to pass on his compliments and beckoned us to visit again, while we a little less enthusiastic on paying it and made another vow like the countless others we’d made already on controlling our diet and getting back into shape.

Well, round is a shape too, isn’t it?

- AspenRocks!!!