it’s mid afternoon and the day is a furnace. sweat runs down my neck as @shaari_ and i walk towards patio from the bus stop, passing by the scorching central park. but soon, we’re in the shade and the air fills up with the smell of grass and greenery.

‘man, this smell,’ i tell shaari.

‘yeah it’s like sultan park, dho?’

‘more like childhood dhathuru. snaking through the bush towards the beach.’

‘did you go to sultan park much?’ asks shaari.

‘not a lot,’ i say.

‘why not?’

‘because i was afraid of…’

‘what? don’t leave me hanging!’

‘i was afraid of…the gubbu,’ i say shamefully.

‘yet you aren’t scared of the bubbu,’ shaari smiles.

god.

at the restaurant we order the jaffna prawn curry for me and the steak for him. newbies to the menu.

‘i wanna try win that competition,’ i tell shaari.

‘what competition?’ he asks.

‘the ‘review and win dinner for two’ competition by patio.’

‘aha. aren’t you a bit old for that kinda thing?’

huh. why must the man joke about everything? food is serious business. as are competitions. and no one is ever too old to review a meal to win more grub.

the server brings our dishes to the table.

‘mmm,’ says shaari. ‘that curry smells good.’

‘so does your steak,’ i say. we take some pics of these funky plates and begin to feast.

‘dear lord,’ i say.

‘what?’ asks shaari.

‘look at these prawns! they’re microscopic!’

i show shaari a prawn in a piece of paan (which is pretty good. the paan i mean).

‘oh no,’ says shaari. ‘this is OK for a prawn fried noodles. absolutely not what you’d expect from a jaffna prawn curry.’
‘exactly,’ i say.

‘how’s the curry at least?’

‘it’s a bit bitter. like there’s too much cumin or something.’

shaari has a bit of curry and he nods.

‘yeah, the measurements are off,’ he says. poor performance from a 200 rufiya curry. it needs to change considerably before it’s fit for consumption.

i try a bit of the steak. the meat is actually pretty decent, very juicy and cooked medium rare as shaari wanted. the problem though is the caramelised onion on top of the meat – it’s just too weird a pairing. the steak would go better with a sprinkle of salt and maybe some pepper. caramelised onions tho. a bad, BAD call.

in the end, our lunch cost us about 600MVR including water (no other drinks).

‘ha, looks like you won’t be winning the competition,’ says shaari reading my notes on our way to the ferry terminal.

‘not if i want to tell it like it is,’ i say.

‘is it worth losing out on a dinner?’

‘a man’s gotta have SOME integrity,’ i tell him.

‘husenfulhu: man of integrity,’ laughs shaari.

‘look, i may lie about everything else but food is sacred ok? SACRED.’

shaari nods, perhaps the man really understands. we buy tickets from the counter and sit silently in the empty waiting area. at least the ferry service has resumed. and the sea is calm, so very, very calm.