Tea, Fried Bread, and Some Mountains or Something. Mostly Bread.
Tea, Fried Bread, and Some Mountains or Something. Mostly Bread.
Dal Puri in India
The air is heavy with birdsong, and birdsong alone. I cannot hear voices, cars, people, or in fact anything that might reveal that I haven’t cut myself off completely from humanity. In truth, I’m staying in a village in the Garhwal Himalayas, in a traditional homestay.
Reluctantly, I stir, and am greeted with a cup of “bed tea”: one of those wonderful Indian creations, served bedside, and made especially for crisp mountain mornings like this. Although the hot, gingery liquid is worth treasuring, what I’ve really woken up for is breakfast. Our hostess had already championed her morning specialty to us the previous night: a traditional dal puri—which caused my stomach to grumble in anticipation upon waking.
Right on cue, the lady of the house clambers up the stone steps leading to our rooms, laying down plates of food in front of us. We’re greeted with a veritable feast, but my focus remains on the dal puri—and there they are, resting in the center of my plate, piled high. A deep-fried Indian bread, delectably stuffed with spiced lentils, slightly steaming in the cold morning air, they are the crowning glory of this morning’s meal. The puris are like little pancakes, flaky, comforting, containing just the right amount of grease. I peel apart the layers: one thin and crispy, the other denser and chewier. To balance the oil and bulk of the puri, an accompanying fragrant green chutney is served, ground the previous night, comprising of wild mint, mountain herbs, and other mysterious ingredients.
To wash it all down is more tea, and then matta—delicious, cold buttermilk. Nothing can compare to a hot, starchy breakfast on a crisp mountain morning like this.
Most of the breakfast ingredients have been sourced from the village gardens and surrounding fields, free of pesticides. It’s traditional farm-to-table living at its best. I can’t believe the amount of goodness on one plate—although it seems many of these villagers seem to be losing interest in preserving their way of life.
Staring at the surrounding mountainside and fields below, I swallow the last bit of crispy puri. A meal from heaven.