Cumin before coriander?

Conversation around the water cooler (the hub of Western civilization, if you ask me) recently gravitated toward phones and phone bills. Nearly everyone (barring other desis, of course) was horrified to learn how often I called India and for how many hours I shot the breeze across the oceans. “What do you talk about?”, asked one nonplussed colleague. Another added that she ran out of things to talk about within the first few minutes of any call.

So what is it that we tie up international phone lines with? What are the reasons for which we call home? Why am I a loyal trueroots aficionado? Here’s my top reason:

Mom to the rescue

 

No one spoils kids like desi moms do. Those Jewish and Italian moms of TV sitcoms are drill sergeants compared to the desi amma! And when you stop being mamma’s boy depends not on your age, but on when mamma moves on to a better world!

So obviously, you don’t learn to cook or clean till you end up living in (bloody) London on a student stipend that couldn’t buy a week’s worth of English breakfasts. So you’re thrown in at the deep end, you don’t know your asafoetida from your elaichi, and you can’t tell which end of the karahi is up! What else can a poor starving boy lost in the kitchen do? Call mamma. I do it all the time. There’s nothing like throwing in the tarka with the phone glued to your ear and mom issuing step-by-step instructions.

It would never do for these calls to cost the earth. That would defeat the purpose (saving money by cooking at home). That’s why culinary instructions are best sought on a trueroots call.