Ok. Four and a half months or thereabouts. After having spent many, many anxious months (before coming to London) asking people stupid questions about the city, the school, and the cold, I am now in a position to dispense some advice of my own. The chosen topic here is food. Some queries have been cooked up and are served below:
Inkyji, do you believe in God?
Ok. So this is not your typical everyday food question. But yes, it is because of food that I believe in God. Not because he gave me today my daily bread. Because English food showed me “the light”.
Everything is bland and tastes the same. When you cannot distinguish between your pie and your (freshly washed) socks, then you usually look at the condiments section and decide to add a dash of mustard. When English mustard goes into your mouth, something tears painfully out through the top of your head, hovers for a moment before your teary eyes that can barely remain open, and then makes a painful re-entry into your body through your nostrils. Your ears tingle when this process is completed. The entity that temporarily dances outside your body is your Soul. I saw it through my tears. It was wearing a badge and all: “Inky’s Unsaved Soul”
Inkyji, should I take the “best before” date on food products seriously?
Now that’s a direct question, even though a stupid one. When a can of chemicals says “Poison. Do not consume.” do you drink it? When a washing machine says “Do not wash your baby sister in this” do you still shove her in? Then why are you suspecting that those nice people at the supermarket are cheating you of perfectly good food by making you throw it away? The first rule of British food is that it tastes like (freshly washed) socks. The second rule is that on the date of expiry, it implodes/auto-combusts/becomes an ecosystem/vanishes into the great void. Not a day sooner, not a day later. Sometimes, there’s a nectarine in your hand, and as you are preparing to bite into it, the clock strikes twelve and the nectarine instantly grows a three-inch layer of fungus. Cinderella had a pleasant food transformation story, but apart from Jesus Christ, nobody has had similar luck after that.
Inkyji, food is strangely priced in London. I cannot figure it out.
It is quite simple really. Remember how in India a vada pao cost three rupees and a fancy meal at an air conditioned restaurant cost two hundred times that much, at about 600 rupees? It is the same here. A student snack costs three pounds, and a feast costs four times as much, at 12 pounds. This is a general rule of international mathematics. It is also displayed in the number of calls you need to make to someone to get something done. Two hundred times in India is the same as four times in London.
Inkyji, what is the best way to eat cheap and healthy food during my stay here?
After thorough research into the subject, it has been found that Air Sahara offers the best healthy food package. For 250 pounds, you can fly to India on Friday evening, eat all of Saturday and most of Sunday, and fly back to London in time for your Monday lecture. If you are airsick and cannot travel often, there is always (freshly washed) sock soup.
If you have food queries, write in to Inkyji.