Would you agree with me when I say that getting to know a place through its food is perhaps the most intimate ways of discovery. Often times, the taste wafts through the air and the colours and arrangement of whats served on the table produce a pot of saliva, before you put the first morsel in your mouth.
But then, have you heard the sound of food? The sounds that go into the making of food? Those sounds make the food real in one way or the other. The dough getting kneaded and moulded. The crackle of the coal beneath the pan. The froth that bubbles. The ice that kicks the walls of the glass. The candle that seems intent on walloping the wicker.
If you travel to the South of India, there is one ubiquitous sound that will greet you, in the dead of the night. Outside bus stands and train stations. Roadside restaurants dishing out a fare that is called ‘Kothu Brota". Maida and oil kneaded together to make “Brota’ as its called. (That it has its origins in Paratha is a different story). Minced away with a vigorous working of triceps, biceps and every conceivable muscle of the hands as the metal spatula clangs against the hot iron pan in a frenzied quest of mincing it to the hilt with notable additions and flavours.

All above the watchful working of the coal beneath it.
It is yum. Of course, it is unhealthy. But most importantly, the clang of iron opens the doors of memory. When those doors open, all hell breaks loose.
The clang of metal and the crackle of coal as it warms the pan, tell quite a story. Listen in.

#SouthIndia #Food #KothuParotta #Parotta #Health #junkfood #memory #roadside #restaurants
#travel #traveller #instatravel #instapassport #blogger #travelblogger #blogging #travelinsights #traveladdict #traveltheworld (at Madurai, India)