Forget the Mysore masala dosa.

Forget Mysore sambar.

Forget Mysore meals.

Forget even the Mysore pak.

The most authentic Mysore dish is the ‘churumuri’.

No other city makes it, no other city consumes it, no other citizen knows about it.

Faster than the fastest fast food, and far more convenient, generations of Mysoreans have waded through school, college and a million cricket matches on nothing more than this not-so-heavy, not-so-light concoction.

Made with puffed rice, with grated carrots, onions, chillies, salt, masala and oil to taste (with four and a half kharada kadle-kai-beeja thrown in), every mother has tried to make it at home in the interests of the health of her kid/s.

And failed most majestically.

There is something about ‘churumuri’ made on the lanes and bylanes of Mysore that makes it difficult to replicate at home.

Maybe it is the clean hands of the churumuri gaadi-wallah and his wife (?). Maybe it is the sterilised utensils they use. Maybe it is the fumes of passing vehicles. Maybe it is just the air of Mysore. But roadside ‘churumuri’ has a taste all of its own, and every Mysorean from Paduvarahahalli to Pasadena knows one ‘churumuri’ maker who can put all other ‘churumuri’ makers to shame.

May no mother ever succeed in this subversive attempt to make to make Mysore at home.