Dosa dilemmas 23

That December, Madras had one of its harshest winters. Some days, the weather dropped down to as low as 27 degrees celsius. Schools shut down, offices decided to open late, and the earmuff sellers at T.Nagar were all but sold out. Women all over the city switched their allegiances from talcum powder to moisturiser, some even managing to find Snow cream at the fancy shops. The men, meanwhile, were finding that they could no longer show off their legs by folding their dhotis up, and were queuing up to buy modest thermal leggings from Naidu Hall (purveyor of fine lingerie).

Given such inclement weather, it was even more surprising that Boochi mama was sweating when he arrived at our house in Mylapore. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes bloodshot, and the sweat had drenched and wilted his famous ear hair so that it seemed to frame his head within giant quotation marks.

“What matter, pa?”, my dad asked.

Boochi mama sighed and told us his sorry tale.  Life, he said, had become difficult ever since he had agreed to his daughter Lalli marrying a Punjabi boy called Chintu.

But now, the unthinkable had happened. The boy had gone on and shamed him in front of the entire Tambrahm community, by posting the following question on Facebook: “Where in Madras I can get authentic, large dosa like we are heving in North?”. There were 20 likes, 30 comments, and at least 3 public shares. Boochi mama was distraught.

Now, I empathised with Boochi mama, I really did. See, there are a few things you should never, ever discuss with friends and family: politics, religion, Justice Katju, and dosas.

Firstly, there is the whole Cauvery issue. Essentially, when this fragrant river of sambar, chunky yet full of sharp character, flows from the state of Tamil Nadu to the state of Karnataka, it undergoes a startling transformation. It rushes over rocks of jaggery and acquires sweetness and colour, and, in a subtle coup, smoothens out its texture so it is worthy of any Soup Nazi south of the Vindhyas.

Secondly, there is the lack of political consensus on what the perfect texture of a dosa should be. Should it melt in your mouth, like the legendary dosas of the Mylari hotel in Mysore? These aspire to a gentle touch, and are served with a gloopy masala that teases as much as it compliments. You could easily have two of these dosas without thinking. Or sixteen. Or should a dosa be super crisp? I was eight years old when I ordered a rocket dosa in a small canteen in Madurai. I was warned against it by my well-meaning family members, but that only steadied my resolve. Two servers were needed to carry the golden roll, and when it was laid down at our table, it stretched across the aisles and into my NRI-childhood dreams. Now, critics claim that this type of dosa is all sound and fury, signifying nothing, but many a youngster will attest to the allure of its confidence, and that surge of love that you feel even as it inflicts mild paper cuts on the inside of your cheeks. Somewhere in the middle lie the dosas of the quaint Vidyarthi Bhavan in Bangalore. These are thick, prosperous dosas pan-fried to perfection. Their crisp exterior hides a petal-soft interior made of up of a million bubbles of ghee. Naturally, it is served only with chutney so as to not overshadow its genius.

But life was bearable when all you had to do was choose between these classic varieties. But what really troubles me is the challenge posed by these dosa carts that dot the garden city of Bangalore. My curiosity got the better of me one day when a “99 Veraity Bombay Dosa” cart was wheeled in to a street next to mine. So I headed there, and, with some trepidation, choose a paneer masala dosa. My dosa was served expertly rolled up and chopped into bite-sized pieces, with a liberal garnish of Bangalore street dust. I am not ashamed to confess this here in print, but it was absolutely delicious (the dosa, not the dust).

See, here’s the thing. Dosa carts hold up a ghee-stained mirror to society. There are those of us who are early adopters, and then there are the pragmatists and finally the laggards. The kind of dosa you order says a lot about you. So what if it is a Maggi dosa with extra mozzarella?

23 thoughts on “Dosa dilemmas

  1. Reply M.Venkatachari Mar 31,2013 9:51 am

    Very excellent! I was fascinated by your Dosa story. Really! Such is writing that I didn’t leave a single letter of your story. I got enchanted by the word spun. Excellent style of presenting! I could consume my Idly only after fully pouncing upon your “Dosa” today morning in Deccan Chronicle.
    I went through your one more article on our elders copying western lifestyle. It’s also good even though I may not fully agree with you as I am also a senior citizen.

    • Reply suchiswriting Apr 22,2013 3:37 pm

      Thank you! By the way, the article on elders copying western lifestyle was just a sarcastic take.

  2. Reply Vartica Mar 31,2013 10:06 am

    Dear suchi,

    I thought your dosa dilemma was awesome. We read your column aloud at the breakfast table and l have to say you made our Easter very special. Keep up the good work .

    – vartica

  3. Reply S. Raman Mar 31,2013 2:18 pm

    Great writing Suchi ! I just happened to see this in Deccan Herald today.
    Enjoyed every bit of it. Fabulous flow of language, I must add.

  4. Reply VAIKUNTAM Mar 31,2013 3:49 pm

    Dear Suchi: you have a wonderful way with words. If you ever think of publishing a collection of your articles, I will be one of the first customers queing up to buy it.
    P>S> VAIKUNTAM

  5. Reply VIKAS SAXENA Apr 1,2013 5:56 pm

    Suchi : this is yet another masterpiece of a composition. An excellent jugalbandhi of humor with semantics !! There are many dosa variants including a ‘tandoori dosa’ !! Will share with you not the tandoori dosa but the ingredients and the mode of its preparation which can be patented only in Delhi and Punjab. Please do continue to regale us all with such stories. Thanks very much !!

  6. Reply Chandrasekaran Apr 2,2013 2:58 am

    Excellent reading,thoughnot Recommended first thing in the morning on an empty stomach! Suchi God Bless u! I read each post diligently and find them very interesting and amusing! Keep writing!

  7. Reply N.R.SAMPATH. Apr 2,2013 2:29 pm

    Dear Suchi,
    Excellent tribute to the ubiquitous Dosa that is an inevitable item in any decent breakfast.I enjoyed every word of your writing and ruminated about the countlessavatars of Dosai,as we Tambrahms call it.Innumerable varities opf Dosa titillate the tongue and Dosa corners have sprung up all over Chennai.In “Kaiyendhi Bhavans” also,Dosai is served with a minimum of four accompaniments.Your tribute to Dosai has made me request my better-half to make masala dosai for breakfast tomorrow.A joke on Dosa—when a customer who had ordered a paper masala dosa got upset that it was getting delayed and asked the server why so late?The server said that the customer in another table was reading the paper (dosa) and after he finishes,the dosa will come to him.!On behalf of Tambrahms,I salute you for elevating dosa to ethereal heights.Waiting for your next article.Best wishes.
    sampath.

  8. Reply Manju Apr 4,2013 2:02 pm

    Suchi, your writing and choice of subject is fabulous. Excellent observations, flow, choice of words, and humor that hooks up the reader! Keep writing! All the very best to you.

  9. Reply Jay Apr 7,2013 10:27 am

    This article doesn’t seem to match up to some of your earlier ones. Sloppy writing has also crept in, e.g. “…and are served with a gloopy masala that teases as much as it compliments” – the last word should be ‘complements’.
    Best wishes.

  10. Reply G.S.Subramanian Apr 13,2013 6:16 am

    That was a FUN TASTIC DOSA GE. Great reading this and mouth watering too.

    gssubbu

    subbusg.blogspot.com

  11. Reply sonali Jun 3,2014 7:17 pm

    Firstly, there is the whole Cauvery issue. Essentially, when this fragrant river of sambar, chunky yet full of sharp character, flows from the state of Tamil Nadu to the state of Karnataka, it undergoes a startling transformation. It rushes over rocks of jaggery and acquires sweetness and colour, and, in a subtle coup, smoothens out its texture so it is worthy of any Soup Nazi south of the Vindhyas.

    — holds true for sambhar.
    I’m a kannadiga from thanjavur and born and raised in Bombay.
    Dosai to dosa to dhosaa is the transition.My dosa expectations are diverse. But dosai without molgapudi is as good as not eating dosai.
    Coming to sambhar, sambhar minus jaggery and garlic is almost not acceptable to the folks here.
    But ones who give udupi rests arun for money are the annas who come on bicycle with chutney and the roadside vendors who serve dosa with hakka noodles and schezwan sauce !
    And I love the way you write 🙂

  12. Reply Narayani.S Dec 21,2015 3:38 pm

    I am printing this out and sending this to my friends in Karnataka. I want to hear what they think! 🙂

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