Lunch #3: Masala Dosa From Masala Dosa With The Woman With No Face
Today I took a friend with me to Long Street for lunch. I cannot tell you her name, because she is famous in internetty ways and she doesn’t like being famous. Or at least she doesn’t like me sneaking up on her in the office, taking pictures of her and then putting her name and face in my crummy blog. So today I went for lunch with the Woman Who Shall Be Known As The Woman With No Face. (WWSBKATWWNF, for short. TAFKAP, eat your heart out.)
Here is a picture of her:
The Woman With No Face is a vegetarian. She is enlightened in that way. She is also quite hard to please, so I was a little nervous about the lunch. I broke the ice by encouraging her to run across the road in front of an oncoming Cape Town Tourism Bus. The tourist in the front on the upper deck gaped at us like a frozen haddock in a fishmonger’s window. I took this to be a Good Omen. (A note on omens: if you pay attention, they are all around you. You just need to know what to look out for.)
We walked briskly down Long Street, pausing only for me to look at a pair of ruffled denim shorts (only R120 – on sale) and to photograph a passing gorilla. The Woman With No Face kept walking, forcing me to run to catch up. She does not pause for ruffled denim shorts or gorillas. This should give you an idea of the pressure I was under.
Fortunately, on my way back from The Coffee Bar That Was Murdered By Its Own Wallpaper yesterday, I noticed a little place that looked pink, vegetariany and that might take credit card. (I keep running out of cash.) So we went directly to this restaurant, where I asked the Lovely Indian Man whether they served any vegetarian food. Amazingly, they did.
We sat down. I gave The Woman With No Face the bench seat, because I knew she would prefer it. Also, I have a hard time concentrating on conversations, so it was good to be staring at a wall that showed a digital blow up of an enormous bosom and a hand holding a platter of indiscriminate vegetables.
We consulted the menu. I was alarmed, because everything on the menu was over R30, my maximum lunch budget. I decided to make it a special occasion and settled for ordering the cheapest meal on the menu: the masala dosa (R42) and a glass of water (free). The Woman With No Face followed suit, although she didn’t order the water.
I was very happy with my decision when the meal arrived:
After appreciating the little turmeric decoration and being given instructions on how to tear, fill and dip our dosas by the Lovely Indian Man, we ate with gusto. Afterwards, The Woman With No Face said that she had enjoyed the lunch and that she might even come for lunch with me again, even though I owe her R5 on the bill.