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My Gastronomical O

My friend Geeta is curious about Lolo's diet. She thinks he is slim and trim and wants to emulate his food habits in her bid to fight the bulge. I tell her he has his juice in the morning or flavoured curd, then wheet-bix and milk or other cereals and a cup of coffee before heading off to work. Then he packs some sandwiches and fruits for lunch and when he gets back home has some of his protein shakes, and then, for dinner it's a whole range of food. His dinners are ceremonial every night. Variety is the spice of his life.

I do like his food habits, which are so varied and, of course, chocolate and ice-cream oriented too, but the spice of my life is chilly. I don't seem to get enough of them here. So I have, on the advice of my former boss and intellectual friend, planted some Thai chillies in my backyard but they are not anywhere close to our 'rajah mirchi' or the king of chillies as befits the name.

Lolo says I must get into healthy eating and include lot more fruits and fibre in my diet, but ask a daily rice and fish eater what that means - it's like asking someone to cut the thread of his life. No matter the range and taste of global food on my platter - Thai, Italian, Greek, Korean, Mexican, Vietnamese, Mongolian, et al - I go back, more often than not,  to my rice and fermented dried fish for my gastronomical orgasm. Thank God for the Bangladeshi shops here with their ready supply of UTONGA, I would have died a gastronomical death.


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