Monday, May 25, 2009

Madam-to-maid manners

Lunch at Gul's house was a spread of rasam, avial, fish mouli and brown rice. 

'You have an awesome cook', I sighed, looking at the well laden table. That was yet another thing I would need to watch out. With no incidental exercise in pushing shopping trolleys, wheeling the stroller, taking out the garbage can or even standing in my own kitchen chopping onions, the pounds were piling easy. Low carb, the mantra from Miami to Mumbai, held true.

'You can take your time to train yours', Gul smiled. 'Beware though. The minute you train your maid, she will run away.'

'So how do you keep yours?' I asked Gul, curious. I still had to perfect my maid-handling techniques. I seemed to be too polite and expected too little and my maids seemed to be taking me for a ride.

'Well, I inherited my cook from one of Pheroze’s Mumbai aunts- she has been with the family for over twenty years.'

You could inherit cooks too? I was amused. 

Gul gave me her spiel on madam-to-maid manners. Not too easy. Not too harsh. None of your American easy affability. Just a dash of the good old 'benevolent dictatorship'.

No comments:

Post a Comment