The Breakfast Republic: Ethics of Eating a VADA

There are moments when I quietly abandon culinary etiquette.

In the Darshinis of Bengaluru—whether it is a Sagar, an A2B, an Adigas, a Rajathadri or Udupi’s, a Namoora Thindi, By2Coffee, a Taza Thindi or any of the countless breakfast sanctuaries that perfume the morning with the fragrance of hot oil and fresh filter coffee—the polished steel spoon and the obedient little fork sit beside the plate with quiet optimism.

I ignore them.

Instead, I plunge my fingers straight into the freshly fried vada.

The first crackle does not happen on my tongue. It happens at my fingertips.

That crisp, brittle crust yields with a satisfying resistance before surrendering to a warm, cloud-like softness hidden within. Somehow, the fingers experience the contradiction before the palate does. The mind receives an advance notice: this impossible thing is about to be both crunchy and tender at the same time.

It feels less like eating and more like shaking hands with breakfast.

Then comes the tiny philosophical dilemma that every vada presents.

Chutney?

Or sambar?

The green freshness of coconut, cool and comforting, whispers one invitation. The fragrant, steaming sambar—with its lentils, vegetables, and unapologetic generosity—makes an equally persuasive argument.

Declaring one superior feels almost unjust.

So I appoint myself an impartial judge.

The first bite belongs to chutney.

The next is entrusted to sambar.

Then back again.

Justice, in the republic of breakfast, is served by alternation.

Some experiences refuse to be rushed. They deserve fingers instead of forks, lingering instead of haste, and quiet appreciation instead of conversation. A Bengaluru darshini, a perfectly fried vada, and that first tactile crack before the first taste—these are among the city's smallest luxuries, and perhaps its most profound.

Perhaps had Albert Camus wandered into a Bengaluru Dharshini, he might have smiled at the Vada. It is gloriously absurd - crisp and sioft, austere and indulgent, ordinary and unforgettable all at once.