Unlike me, my Dad never ate curries or any spicy food. In fact he called anything that wasn't good old Scottish mince "your foreign muck", and once claimed that even mince and potatoes was too exotic for him; he preferred mince with bread! The reason for this is that Dad had a delicate tummy and suffered terribly from indigestion.
I love curries, and as a teenager used to eat Chinese ones. The first time I tasted an Indian one was at the Shish Mahal in Gibson Street when I was a student and I fell in love with it straight away. I love the smell of an Indian takeaway or restaurant. My favourite dish is chicken pasanda with rice and naan bread, usually preceded by pakora with chilli sauce. I also like South Indisn curries served in big Dhosas. Unfortunately I have the same sort of digestive system as my Dad, and I suffer dreadfully afterwards! Some curries affect me less than others; James thinks it depends on the quality of the food and has come to distrust and in fact abhor our local takeaway, but I usually get indigestion to a greater or lesser extent no matter where we buy it. By saying indigestion I am deliberately understating the turmoil that I go through! Last night we got a curry from a small shop near David's school after a meeting there about his ski trip. We hadn't been there before, however David recommended it and it all tasted reasonably ok when we got home. However it turned out to be the curry from hell. I won't go into the horrible details but even now, more than twenty-four hours later, my stomach lining feels as if it is burning and I have awful heartburn. I am indeed my father's daughter! But what can I do - I still love curries!
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