This is so cute — a non-desi journalist tries paan for the first time, with all the variness of a wegetarian trying a Chicken McNugget.
A rush of unfamiliar flavors flooded my tongue. After a few moments, I got nervous and spit it into my napkin. While I hoped that I wouldn’t later be punished by days in my hotel bathroom, part of me regretted the fact that I hadn’t had the full paan experience… “What’s its appeal?” I asked. He looked at me as if I were crazy, like I was asking him why people liked chocolate. “It’s good. Everybody likes it…”
The first taste was one of overwhelming sweetness–from the rose syrup–and then I got a tang of menthol. The contents were crunchy, and the rose petal scent was strong. As I continued to chew and as the sweetness subsided, I began to taste the licorice flavor of the fennel and the warm spiciness of the cardamom…
It was strange and jarring, kind of how I remember very dark chocolate or Marmite tasting when I was a kid. But it wasn’t just the taste, it was also the mix of unusual textures–the feeling of chewing some mulch, twigs and gooey gel wrapped up in a leaf… [Link]
You can’t really use a clichéd food metaphor when you’re already reviewing food, but you just know this tai-pan has a plan B:
… it woke up my tired nose and jaded taste buds, like a walk through a crowded market in India… [Link]
The subtitle is ‘The new hot treat from India.’ This paandemic is new, didn’tcha know?






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