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A lot of my memories involve food and i just had what for me is a profound realization. Profound because it involves food 🙂

It’s not where I had my best slice of pizza or where I had the best Idli Sambar. It is when. 

I had the best pizza at Pizza Inn in Muscat when I was 12 – when I told my mom that it was OK for me to have the entire pizza because I wasn’t chewing the pizza – and if I didn’t chew, I couldn’t get fat. 

I had the most amazing Idli Sambar when my parents would take us for mid-morning breakfasts to Oman Express on Fridays. Muscat weekends were Thu-Fri. 

The best Chicken Salad Sandwich I had was from the school canteen when I was 14 using 200 Baiza (about 60 cents Canadian) I stole from my dad’s wallet.

Toronto has 10 restaurants serving  50 versions of every cuisine on planet earth. They just don’t taste that good – most of them anyway. Even the best meal I’ve had doesn’t satisfy me the way that Chicken Salad sandwich from the canteen. 

Things tasted so good back then. Blow my mind 10 times a day delicious. 

Things taste OK now. I used to think it’s the mediocrity of Toronto’s restaurants – and I think thats part of it for sure – but also…

The best dosa I had was when my mom flipped 10 into my plate one after the other when I was a kid.

I guess there are exceptions to any profundity. My mom’s dosas still hold up to the taste test.

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Previous posts

I’ve archived all previous posts simply because my own thoughts and writing seemed odd and awkward to me. It’s surprising how impatient your old thoughts can make you :). I irritated myself as much other people’s ramblings do.