Food joint

There’s this little food joint near my house, and I sometimes go there to buy dinner if my mother doesn’t feel like making it herself. It’s in a little room with mud tiles for a roof. There are a few creaky old benches for seats, and an old fan and some light bulbs hang from the ceiling. The cooking is done on an old clay oven. The people working there make some of the food beforehand and usually heat it before serving it. They make the rotis on the spot. And this process fascinates me a lot. It’s a three step operation. One guy constantly kneads dough in a huge bowl. He then makes some lechis, rolls them out on a rolling pin and puts them on a huge inverted pan over the oven to heat. A guy standing near him, who also does the cooking, takes the heated rotis and heats them directly over a fire in another oven until they puff up. Then he lifts them with a huge set of calipers and drops them in a container. Finally, another guy serves it along with the other items. The efficiency in this process is breathtaking and I’m amazed at the speed with which rotis are made. On some days the store has a lot of customers, and on other days not too many. There’s a railway station near my house, and the travelers often have dinner there. Another thing I love is the smell of the place. A weird mixed smell of rotis and various food items make for a strange intoxicating smell. It’s not exactly high on hygiene, but with their budget, you can’t expect them to be. Oh, and before I end, the food tastes good.
Cheers!