You heard about stuffing a turkey. Have you heard about “Guest stuffing”? It is a well known phenomenon for anybody who grew up in India. Forcing the guest to eat until the guest is an inch from throwing up is considered a hostly thing to do. Leaving any food that the host gratuitously pushed on to your plate is considered very barbaric.

An acquaintance of ours invited us for an informal dinner. The moment I entered their house, the sexy thing on the table caught my eye. I mean the dessert, “Rasmalai.” I told myself that all I have to do is pretend to be eating the entrée for a few moments and then I can get my dirty hands all over the Rasmalai.
The dinner featured typical Gujrati delicacies Dal Dhokli , Undhiya, Hahdwoh and Khichu. My dinner plate came pre-configured with all these items. Damn, I didn’t want to fill myself with these. Ok, not to worry. If I go easy on the them, I can do some well deserved justice to the Rasmalai.

I polished off the food items one by one with the deftness of an experienced Gujrati. To my surprise all the delicacies magically re-appeared on my plate. I looked up in horror. The spatula wielding hostess was standing right next to me. “Oh, you are a young man, you can eat more.” she dismissed my horror with a wave of the spatula. I begged the hostess to control her effervescing hospitality.
As I was serving myself a carefully measured portion of Khichu (a type of rice ), I heard the host guffaw. “Don’t eat like a bird. That is why you become so thin.” Before I could fully comprehend the ominousness of his statement, the host moved with dizzying alacrity(refer GRE flashcards box no.1...that is how i got these words :P) and before I knew, a khichu-heap of the size of Gibraltar was sitting on my plate. I am sure a tear trickled down my cheek as bid farewell to any remaining hopes of getting to the Rasmalai.

I laboriously finished the khichu. I was so full that I could not even laugh at my cousin throwing himself on his plate in an attempt to prevent the host from serving more. But, like a wounded soldier crawling towards home country, I reached out for the Rasmalai. I had them in a cup and was about to eat when I heard, “What? You are already having dessert?” “I saw you didn’t eat the Hahdwoh.” At which point, I gave up.

Well the silver lining is the hostess gave me my Rasmalai to-go. So I did enjoy the sexy, white, supple things the day after.