The Beauty of Food

I am a foodie, and I can cook, a bit at least, and when people have a look at me, their first question is always the same.

“How come you are so thin?”

The bewilderment on everyone’s face is always good to see, and I guess people are jealous (I could and would have named some, but wrath is bad for me). I do not eat to live, but I live to eat. My choices and desires for food vary widely during each course of the meal, but when it comes to desserts, I do not have choices. I do have my likings, but my sweet tooth doesn’t allow me the freedom to let go of a less-liked sweet dish.

Reading the topic, my mind traversed from the greens of salad, to the succulent reds of the Indian main course dishes, to the yellow of the daals, and the whites of the varied types of rices. But then, my favorite course came back to me. Covering all of the colors, and the tastes, and the smells, and the textures. This was it. And I knew what I had to write about.

The smoke from the burning underside of the brown mass diffused into my nose and made me sigh at the wait. There it lay in front of me, a rectangular mass of crumbs, held together by what some would say magic, dull yet so attractive. It looked so strong, and it screamed at the heat it was enduring, waiting for its partner, to enclose him in the flow of her arms; covering every single speck of the brown.

There she flowed, like silk, melting everything near her with the heat she held in her body. Gleaming in the light, she slowly cooled down and embraced him altogether, hiding him from the world in her arms, and seeped into him. The essence of their togetherness was one of extreme pleasure, and as the white ball settled down on top, the warmth of the two made the coolness vanish and softened the cream.

The three together looked like a perfect family picture, something to be framed and kept close together in the heart. But then, nothing lasts forever. The silverware lashed in my hand as I slowly took a part of all 3 together as the mixed brown and white tears fell onto the hot plate below, I drowned in the tsunami of the intertwining flavors.

The rough part of the bottom, gently layered with the flowing chocolate and then the smooth and cold white blob at the top made me sigh with ecstasy and wish for more. The mild sweetness with the strong chocolatey lava followed by the immortally tempting vanilla ice-cream made me want for more.

Well, all this made me hungry. But as I waited for the next serving to come out from the kitchen, hot and steaming, my blogger’s mind looked intently at the other plates and dishes being used around me. The overhead lights gleamed in the plates and the silverware as though they had been made of crystal, so pure, and their beauty caught my eye. At that instant, I knew I needed them with me to take the appearance of my love, my food, to a new high.

I later asked the manager of the hotel I was in, and he told that they only used products from Borosil as they were the best in physical attire. The quality was extremely good too, and their presence should be a must in every restaurant, and even a house. When I expressed my desire to purchase them, he told me that rather than looking in each shop and trying to find something I liked, I could visit their website (http://myborosil.com/), and order online.

So, home I went, stomach filled, and the decision to purchase what had caught my eyes, all to make my food more beautiful.

This has been written for the My Beautiful Food Contest by Borosil in association with Indiblogger.