Every six months or so, a food writer or celebrity from the West decides to say something about Indian cuisine that gets thousands of our fellow countrymen hot and bothered. A year or so ago, for instance, a British historian innocently maintained that idlis were the most boring things in the world. He must have been unprepared for the shock and anger that was triggered among people who supposedly believe in non-violence.

There were photographs of Indians eating plates of idlis surrounded by condiments, comments about the historian’s poor palate, insinuations about how his idlis must have been prepared by amateurs, and complaints about how misunderstood our cuisine has always been. We wanted him to acknowledge that he had made a mistake, and humbly accept that our food was faultless.