now this is what I call breakfast. I would travel each morning to the most dreamy outdoor cafe to have it. the idli were made by angels from heaven; fluffy and light. perfectly ripe fruit, sweet lime juice, and tea poured over a sprig of mint in my cup. all served by young men perfectly clad in all white with dark green bandhani patterned aprons.
my last breakfast in India was at the 110 year old Chandravilas restaurant. I had fafda (above) made from chick pea flour and dipped in sauce.
a peek into the kitchen.
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