|Moha's Makki Di Roti|
Last night, Moha cooked the most sinfully addictive, borderline-heavenly, almost orgasmic Makki Di Roti. You need to understand that most parts of north India currently in the gallows of extremely chilly conditions would be consuming this semi-roasted, semi-greased stuff but everyone has a slightly different way of doing it, every household has their own special recipe but I now know for sure that none of them can outdo what I ate last night. Perhaps the magic lies in my wife's love
What made it so special?
No soft spots: I cannot emphasize this enough and despite repeated arguments with friends and colleagues, I staunchly support the cause of a Makki Di Roti being crisper, crumblier, crustier, and more reddish-brown than what the convention suggests. You want every bit to make serious audiophile tones when your teeth grind them. Not recommended if you have a cavity waiting for its filling. Dental appointment first, then comes Moha Di Makki Roti.
Served strategically: this is perhaps the least understood part of really enjoying a meal. When you are eating something that is supposed to be served right off the flame, you cannot afford being lazily spread in front of the TV. You need to ditch the living room lazy boy seats and find a corner for yourself in the kitchen. For me, this holds true even when I wasn’t served the magical Makki Di Roti – it is winter time in Delhi and rather than being cooped-up in my room, I get to enjoy freshly cooked food, served with the warmth of a burning flame and the bubbling conversations