A frequent visitor to Andhra Pradesh during the dog days, I used to keep a piece of banana leaf under my deerstalker cap while travelling to project sites. That was to guard the nose from bleeding due to the simmering heat.Once, feeling ravenously hungry, I spotted in the outskirts of Amalapuram, its swanky ‘Sheraton’. A mud-wall structure supporting a thatched roof housed an eatery. To the famished, it was a five-star oasis.
Inside, rickety wooden tables and backless benches provided the plush seating. The cracks on the walls formed a psychedelic pattern providing authentic rustic decor. A poster of a young Telugu hero and a lass rubbing their noses avouched that human hunger is not merely for food.
“Randi,” invited the owner in his hyper-resonant voice. Ceremoniously, he spread a leaf before me and served the meal consisting of the chilli-happy Andhra fare. For the third course, a boy brought a tall aluminium tumbler of curd.
As I inverted it, the loose contents dropped down in a free fall covering the rice mound in one swirly sweep. The owner, supervising the proceedings from a corner, shouted, as if a cup of poison had been served by mistake. He dragged my leaf aside and ordered a fresh leaf to be placed. Soon a portion of rice was served on it. He placed before me a new tumbler of curd. “Ippudu choodandi,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
The fun started thereafter. I inverted the vessel for the contents to flow on the rice. But it didn’t happen. It remained stuck, refusing to budge. I shook it, hit it. I smacked its bottom, like one does with a bottle of tomato sauce. No response. The curd remained set.
His face was wreathed in a smile. Though not elegant, I put my index finger into the surface and prised open the creamy layer. One dollop after the other the curd got disentangled in degrees. Even after I finished the meal, a portion at the bottom refused to budge. I left it admitting defeat. He ought to have supplied a mini chisel and hammer.As I paid the bill, he looked at me with smug satisfaction. His hotel was not a Sheraton, but it had its own humble, sworn quality policy. And no compromise, please.