Office Woes #4: Banana Discrimination

One would imagine that colleagues with a certain level of responsibility would have a corresponding level of maturity. In my office, one would be wrong. Very wrong.

I have Malayali heritage, and by that I mean that my father is a Malayali, but he is useless at being true to his roots. I grew up mostly Maharashtrian, courtesy my mom, till I moved back to India, spent a few years in Pune, and learnt to detest regionalism with every fibre of my being. But that’s another post. This one has to do with banana chips; the delicious snack from Kerala, which constitutes wafer-thin slices of banana, fried to a delicate shade of yellow, in white-hot coconut oil. I especially love the Calicut variety, where the chips are almost translucent in their delicacy, and crisp without being hard.

Not that I meant to sing a paean of praise for the banana chip, but there you go. Feelings cannot be contained some times. Moving on.

The office cafe recently received a food upgrade. We now have vast quantities of fattening nibbles, in addition to the already sizeable existing range of unhealthy nibbles. One of the latest additions is, you guessed it, banana chips.

Of course, I zeroed in on those the second I saw them. They were, well, meh. That’s the best way to describe them. So when I heard a couple of North Indian (aka clueless about South Indian food) colleagues waxing eloquent about them, I scoffed mildly. Of course, this elicited a response. Very rarely do I not get a response, sadly.

I described the unparalleled gorgeousness of the Calicut banana chip. And this was the response I got:

“Real banana chips have curves, K!”



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