Pizza Pleasure
Every Saturday, I get into the process of sorting mail received during the week. From invitations to attend my mother's cousin's grandson's wedding or a second cousin's daughter's engagement or fliers announcing 50% off (conditions apply!) sale at a store. Today, I saw a pizza menu amidst these. Rani - my maid, exclaimed, "Akka! Isn't this the stuff they show on television? I have never eaten a pisa." Akka is the Tamil word for older sister. And, pizza was called pisa, not peet-za.
Just to put that smile on her face, I went ahead and called the pizza store and ordered for a thin crust pisa with vegetable toppings. When the peesa delivery boy rang the door bell, Rani jumped, "Akka! The pisa is here. Can I open the door?" She stepped back, "What if he speaks English? I wouldn't know what to tell him. So, you go and open the door."
Her ear-to-ear smile led her to the kitchen to fetch a plate so she can eat her pisa. Her curiosity prodded her to ask what Oregano seasoning and Chilli flakes are. I got into a translation mode trying to explain the vernacular equivalents of these ingredients. "Why can't they put this into the pisa? I don't want to sprinkle these on the pisa!" she complained.
As she was biting into her pisa piece after piece, I noticed a waning of the initial enthusiasm. "Akka! This is plain flour! There is no taste, no spice in the vegetables like the curry we make. You paid 300 rupees for nothing but flour and vegetables!"
Here I was, elated that I contributed my mite to her first pisa-eating experience. My funda of the joy of giving, and her broad grin on seeing the pisa melted away like the cheese on something that was just flour and vegetables with no spice!
Just to put that smile on her face, I went ahead and called the pizza store and ordered for a thin crust pisa with vegetable toppings. When the peesa delivery boy rang the door bell, Rani jumped, "Akka! The pisa is here. Can I open the door?" She stepped back, "What if he speaks English? I wouldn't know what to tell him. So, you go and open the door."
Her ear-to-ear smile led her to the kitchen to fetch a plate so she can eat her pisa. Her curiosity prodded her to ask what Oregano seasoning and Chilli flakes are. I got into a translation mode trying to explain the vernacular equivalents of these ingredients. "Why can't they put this into the pisa? I don't want to sprinkle these on the pisa!" she complained.
As she was biting into her pisa piece after piece, I noticed a waning of the initial enthusiasm. "Akka! This is plain flour! There is no taste, no spice in the vegetables like the curry we make. You paid 300 rupees for nothing but flour and vegetables!"
Here I was, elated that I contributed my mite to her first pisa-eating experience. My funda of the joy of giving, and her broad grin on seeing the pisa melted away like the cheese on something that was just flour and vegetables with no spice!
posted by vasudha at
10:39 PM
1 Comments:
Nice entry :) I still remember my first experience when I tasted Pizza...I was like, "huh thats it? I paid 250 rs just for this tasteless thing?" :))
But I had the opportunity to taste authentic pizza in Italy in 2003. Those pizzas are awesome, very tasty and mouth-watering... After eating those pizzas, when I was back in India, never felt like eating the pizza here :D
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