I like all my fingers, thank you

Shifting to delhi meant gustatory adventures to me and this one time I had vowed not to think of mundane things like hygiene and other sanitised thoughts.

Little did I know that it would begin in a dabba delivered to my office. Of course that came as a pleasant surprise that tiffin service was prevalent here as well (since am still to get enthused about cooking at unearthly hours just so that I will have lunch).

Second day of eating my tiffin and lo behold I was confronted with lady's finger ke sabzi or okra or bhendi or bhindi.. or whatever other lucious names it is called by.

I cannot stand the vegetable and somewhere deep in the recceses of my mind, am positive I am allergic to it. There I have said it and like many people who *dont* like potatoes (Yes there are such people) and who I belittle, I expect be dealt with in the same fashion.

But bhindi in any form is just as unpalatable. And am yet to meet someone who does not like it or at least who abhorrs it as much as I do. Office discussions soon lead to fingers pointing at my full dabba and round horror filled eyes expressing their dismay. "Oh dear! You dont like bhindi!!"

I, nastily, felt like exclaiming back "Oh dear!! You like bhindi??!!" But before I could retaliate, he added "You are the second woman I have met who does not like it." So since when is it a woman thing eh?

Bhindi any which way is not palatable. Though most Indian preparation do not drown the vegetable's inherent taste, there was a certain preparation I came across on some food blog in which chopped okra was put it into a batter of egg and milk and crumb fried it after that.

Well deep fried in this manner and am sure even alfafa sprouts will taste delicious, but otherwise bhindi can be quit a squelchy vegetable to eat.

On another note, had one delicious meal at a place called Colonel's Kebabs in Defence Colony and while it was superb (a platter of them thingy, one pudina paratha and one fresh lime), have been told that better and more meaner ones are waiting to be discovered.

Here I come, Dilli!