The Fat Pack article in the NYT brought to mind memories of friends of the family and relatives, who I watched as a child. Somehow, it always felt like they'd just given up. I kinda made up their mental banter "what the heck, that puri looks like it wants to be eaten. Mmm, fat..." I was fascinated, because there's definitely a gourmet/ gourmand behind one of the mystery doors in my head. I've tended to put a nicely toned guard outside that door, but the "fatty" slips out every so often. My guilty food pleasures are cheese and red wine...and puri/ bhaturas. What's yours?
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