The Sunday breakfast has traditionally been a great coming together meal for most families. Growing up in Delhi in a Punjabi household, my sister and I were subjected to many cholesterol bombs like parathas, puri-chole, sometimes even deep fried burgers (yes, you read it right) and what not posing as holiday morning specials.
Sometimes though, we were subjected to the unimaginative anda bhurji or masala omelettes served with the good old ‘conti’ breakfast favourite -tinned, drowned-in-tomato-sauce, flatulence-inducing legume. Since we had eggs everyday for breakfast anyway, we dismissed them as summarily unimaginative. So we yawned, ate whatever was laid out meekly, sometimes with ‘Wah Wah’s, sometimes with ‘Again?’s and then got back to doing what kids do best – be generally unappreciative and run off to play, read or whatever.
My 9-year-old son is having quite a run, in comparison. Being a happy breakfast aficionado myself, I laboriously prepare what, to an amateur like me, is quite the weekend morning treat. My labours, however, are routinely tish-toshed by him but he does murmur some half-hearted compliment every once in a while. Like us, he also eats it meekly and is then off to what kids do best – be generally unappreciative and run off to play, read or whatever.
Now, while the response is strikingly similar, the meal, in fact, is not. We are Global Indians, after all, and therefore, must display all the traits that go with the title! So the weekend breakfast is no longer puri-chole or parathas but can range from farmhouse omelettes served with European ham and cheese and some freshly baked baguettes or frittatas with grated parmesan on top and herbed grilled tomatoes and sausages on the side with multigrain artisanal bread. Some health-oriented friends are into smoothies with couscous/quinoa for breakfast. And sadly, baked beans are now truly passé.
Putting a breakfast like this together is not hard to achieve – hell, it’s standard fare across the Anglo-Saxon world and is far, far easier than a dosa or puri bhaji! But as we march towards Globalisation, our posh palettes are craving more variety than ever before. Never mind the plethora of choices back home, never mind Indian exotica – let’s leave that to the West to try. We’ve been there and have done that. We want more and more international foods that we can sink our teeth into, whether at home or when eating out.
Which is the other shining example of change in a typical Metro environment? Cut to flashback scene number 2. Like most middle class urban households, we went out monthly, en famille, to basically three kinds of restaurants – Indian, Indian Chinese and Indian Continental and ate the same old, same old. Five star hotels were rare and visits to them were rarer still and meant more for the hoity-toity service than the food, which was not spectacularly different (except for a few places that we’d only heard of in hushed, respectful tones). That said, this monthly dinner was a spectacular event tucking into Mughlai fare and American Chopsuey with Manchurian certainly made our day.
Our first taste of authentic global cuisine, surprisingly, started when‘real’ burgers and pizzas entered our lives. Now to eat a juicy burger with real hash browns and mustard, standing up in a small diner-like place with an open kitchen and to finish the meal with an ice cream soda or a sundae – oh man, that was the stuff of Archie comics and Hollywood, rolled into one! Suddenly, we were on the Path to Coolness.
Life remained like that for many years to follow. Localisation hit the diner and even though we were still addicted, it was no longer so hip to be there because everyone you knew, but didn’t want to, was there.
The next wave of culinary magic started to happen in the late 90s. Italian restaurants, run by genuine Italian people started to open. A kind of Tex-Mex restaurant was the rage and ‘genuine’ Chinese became the places to eat at. No one had a clue, of course and it all looked and tasted somewhat different, so it was all fab.
But the real game changer took place at the turn of the century when holiday mania hit the middle classes. The more rampantly we travelled, the more equal we felt. The smellier the cheese, the better it seemed. Some smart restaurateurs were wise to the change and others who weren’t, fell by the wayside. Some of the better known Delhi establishments now sell shirts, apparently.
Today, we’re spoilt for choice for global quality food, if you can afford to pay for it, that is. From Japanese to French, most of us have now experienced quality global food in a variety of cuisines.
The frequency with which we consume global food has helped us leapfrog that slow progression of learning with experience. So much so, that we’re now faced with greater dilemmas. Where does one go out? What does one eat? Neapolitan pizza (not just plain old pizza, silly!)? Sushi? Dimsums?
And lastly, the monthly ‘outing’, which is now a weekly affair, has become a battle of wits. Heated debates on where to go, invariably end in defeat to my 9-year-old. And funnily enough, typical of kids, it seems that they love the same thing over and over again, till they tire of it. So for most of us folks, despite being deluged with all the options in the world, it’s back to the same old, same old.
Image courtesy: © Thinkstock photos/ Getty images
More On >> Cooking Tips
