Reality Check

So... I got down to making those dosas from that batter... And if I can say so myself, they turned out fantastic. But thats not precisely what this post is about. I had only 2 of us, S & I to make dosas for... Even so, I was taken back to those days in India where dosa invariably formed dinner for more than once a week sometimes. And my Chittipatti remains the master at the dosas and her dosas are paper-thin, tremendously crisp and with very little oil - its the ultimate combination all of us strive for while making dosas. And she's sooo good at it that people from all corners come home and request her speciality to savour. This post is about my Chittipatti, and occassionally Patti and definitely all Ammas in the world. An ode to them. How they unflinchingly make 30-50 dosas for the huge family/friends without so much a word of protest. In fact the more one ate, the happier they were... In fact my Chittipatti sits on the kitchen counter and amid the heat of cooking dosas sometimes, for well over 2 hours. Hats off!

I have done this a couple of times in the US.. A dosa dinner for the North Indian friends who were pretty enraptured with the dosa (they always called it DO(like TOE)-SA; never got the "Dh"). And as usual, after making about 20-25 dosas, I was pretty much full from the smell. But I had VR there to help me out and we used to make them together and she would make them for me when we had finished serving everyone else and vice versa. Here, I turned down S's chivalrous offer to make me my dosas once he'd completed dinner. And I had to make myself barely 3 dosas before I could appreciate what all our moms did for us. By the time the second dosa was being made, I realized that the first one was going cold. And everyone knows cold dosas are about as much fun as a damp sponge. So I ate it as the second one cooked. Following this pattern, I even had time to do the dishes while the third was cooking. With this discontinuity, its hardly a wonder that my Chittipatti after making those 50 odd dosas for everyone barely managed to eat the 2 that my mom made for her.

The next time I am in India and being pampered with "Innum onnavadhu saapdu" (Eat atleast one more), this reality is going to hit me and I swear I will try to partake their efforts in the making (though I doubt the people in question will ever choose my dosa over the Master Chef's!) But ther's no harm in trying. After all, S can vouch that my dosas were crisp and yummy too...