Its one Whole Mess.

Have you ever wondered if the person who cooks for you might have previously worked for a large scale stationery manufacturing unit? Has it ever hit you hard in the gut that your eating, if spotted by others might relatively resemble a cow's? Have you ever been amazed how they could so meticulously make Natraj Rubber in the form of a perfect circle, adorn it with intricate striations and put it on a plate and give it with 'kuruma'? If yes, then you might be in the vicinity of the ever-glorious S.S.N boy's hostel mess. Welcome to my world! I'm not a hosteler. I perennially strive not to be one. But situations force me into residing there frequently, They make 'parotas' for dinner, or so they claim. I walk in, pick up their stainless steel plate, which has S.S.N triumphantly embossed on it, sparkles so brightly like those Vim commercials, you could look at your image on it and slick back your hair with pride, and a friend goes 'It's parotas today. Good luck!'. The 'Good Luck' part more or less spoke for itself. I should have realized I was going to have a dinner I'd never forget as long as my veins pumped blood into my arteries.

They serve Natraj Rubber. Correction! Natraj Rubber with salt! It didn't taste that bad. It just didn't taste. I cant deny the fact that I'm not that well built. But with ten slender fingers if you're not able to pull off a piece from a wholly circular parota, you're either under malnutrition or this must be the literal sense of explaining 'food for thought'! It doesn't come off, and the circumference is too large to pop the whole thing into your mouth. Even if you employed your muscular friends to pull off a piece, the chances of you chewing it down your oesophagus is one per thirteen million. Good luck with it. The kuruma is just fuel to the fire. Half-cooked vegetables straight from the shredder, boiled and dropped into masala water. That is the recipe yes, but copybook fashion doesn't work here. The kuruma warrants criticism. If there was some syndrome to nullify your sense of taste, perhaps then you might give this three stars. Sanity might just pop the finger. I stay in the hostel only because of basketball practice. If not for my passion for the sport, so endorsed by my previous post, I would be at one of those mobile consumer courts now.

They have a menu. They serve different dishes every day. Maybe they thought showing variety to garbage might entice the consumers. Their full course meals are a delicacy I must say. Their buttermilk, its sheer class. Here's how it works. Open the tap and show a spoonful of curd every 6.7 seconds, and Voila! Buttermilk in a cup. Oh, and if you have time, please find out if there is any company in southern Tamilnadu that makes 'Sriram bread'. Or 'Real' mix-fruit jam. Though their coffee is some consolation, expecting humans to survive eight hours of Engineering jargon on a cup of coffee is a little too taxing. The mess staff are opportunist too. I don't blame them. They are forced to eat their own food. Amul butter - The one branded item that is there on their shelves, and they stock it. See, we know Amul. It's the taste of India. Yet they stock that and give us 'Real' jam instead.

They don't let us into their kitchens. They guard their trade secrets with their lives. The mess meetings don't make a difference either. When you are a little happy that the new caterers seem to be making palatable food, some God-forsaken loser picks a fight with some worker and out of sheer emergency, they bring back the old guys. Its the same old 'A coffee a day keeps your senses at bay' life again. Imagine living a life where you slog it out on the court for four hours at a stretch to come back and eat something that resembles your pant for dinner. Its worse when your mother's a brilliant cook and you a foodaholic. It is by no means fun, having your eyes closed and using the other side of your spoon to push the food down your throat, so it doesn't touch your tongue. Crocin should be after food or before food, not the food itself. This is a blow to all human obesity. If you are trying to cut back on the finance, yet you want to knock off that little extra fat around your pot-belly, Fitness One isn't always the call. There are economical options around. Give this a shot. Visible changes in seventeen days guaranteed, or we sponsor your medical expenditure. Hostel Mess - The taste numbs you. Literally.

-Supermur.