Not to be confused with a super fast rail service in Northern Europe. That is Thalys. The affair I'm about to narrate is that of a Thali (plural Thalis - very similar pronunciation as Thalys). Or more correctly of enjoying a good one.
Thali in Indian lexicon is a food platter. Technically it simply means platter, usually reserved to receive food on it. It is the equivalent of a plate.
Now the more commercial version of that definition is a dinner platter, usually made of recyclable stainless steel, adorned by a necklace of of small steel bowls that hold a variety of food preparations as to not mix them up, letting the consumer enjoy each item in its unique flavored glory.
Imagine this arrangement. You have a melange of foods from spicy moist curries with lentils in one bowl to dry vegetable curry in another while yet another hosts a cool cucumber salad and another a dairy product like a yogurt based sauce and then simultaneously gawk at the sweetest of sweets in the form of a warm Gulab Jamun or Gajrela or a cool Shrikhand (a sweet cream cheese like preparation adorned ideally with hints of toasted saffron and cardamom).
The center of the now empty platter can intake fresh fried thin rolled dough in the form of Pooris so crisp and light you see the sunlight pass through them. The way to enjoy this edible arrangement is traditionally also to begin with a full version; sampling each dish the chef sends out from the kitchen and decide with which your tongue might want to continue to have a longer relationship with.
As the servers approach with large set of interconnected utensils holding variety of the curries you have on your plate you indicate which you would like more scoops of. They proceed to serve with the utmost urgency and even will in the right place encourage you to keep trying more. It is called 'Agraha' or earnestly insist to ensure the guest leaves happy and content.
So the point of this lecture is that we sampled a new'ish' restaurant in the neighborhood by this name and were substantially 'filled' with the experience. Food was indeed wonderful (likely prepared by some desi and a trained sous chef from Mexico), was served warm (ambiance was also keeping company since the A/C in this place had long stopped keeping up with the record heat wave); and the servers did a good job of keeping the plates just filled between sweaty runs back and forth from the kitchen.
The cool Shrikhand was my personal favorite while the rest of the family also praised the Palak Paneer (fried ricotta cheese cubes in a creamy spinach curry); Gulab Jamuns and Undiyo (a complex Gujarathi dish made from veggies like small aubergines, beans, potatoes and peanuts in a rich sauce).
Later we had to take a longer than expected walk to ensure I could get back into the driver's seat.
Thali in Indian lexicon is a food platter. Technically it simply means platter, usually reserved to receive food on it. It is the equivalent of a plate.
Now the more commercial version of that definition is a dinner platter, usually made of recyclable stainless steel, adorned by a necklace of of small steel bowls that hold a variety of food preparations as to not mix them up, letting the consumer enjoy each item in its unique flavored glory.
Imagine this arrangement. You have a melange of foods from spicy moist curries with lentils in one bowl to dry vegetable curry in another while yet another hosts a cool cucumber salad and another a dairy product like a yogurt based sauce and then simultaneously gawk at the sweetest of sweets in the form of a warm Gulab Jamun or Gajrela or a cool Shrikhand (a sweet cream cheese like preparation adorned ideally with hints of toasted saffron and cardamom).
The center of the now empty platter can intake fresh fried thin rolled dough in the form of Pooris so crisp and light you see the sunlight pass through them. The way to enjoy this edible arrangement is traditionally also to begin with a full version; sampling each dish the chef sends out from the kitchen and decide with which your tongue might want to continue to have a longer relationship with.
As the servers approach with large set of interconnected utensils holding variety of the curries you have on your plate you indicate which you would like more scoops of. They proceed to serve with the utmost urgency and even will in the right place encourage you to keep trying more. It is called 'Agraha' or earnestly insist to ensure the guest leaves happy and content.
So the point of this lecture is that we sampled a new'ish' restaurant in the neighborhood by this name and were substantially 'filled' with the experience. Food was indeed wonderful (likely prepared by some desi and a trained sous chef from Mexico), was served warm (ambiance was also keeping company since the A/C in this place had long stopped keeping up with the record heat wave); and the servers did a good job of keeping the plates just filled between sweaty runs back and forth from the kitchen.
The cool Shrikhand was my personal favorite while the rest of the family also praised the Palak Paneer (fried ricotta cheese cubes in a creamy spinach curry); Gulab Jamuns and Undiyo (a complex Gujarathi dish made from veggies like small aubergines, beans, potatoes and peanuts in a rich sauce).
Later we had to take a longer than expected walk to ensure I could get back into the driver's seat.
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