The Great Trivandrum Porotta Tragedy: A Kozhikodan’s Lament

Fellow porotta lovers, I need to get this off my chest. As a Kozhikodan who has spent a year in Trivandrum, I have one burning question—why is it so hard to get a hot, crispy-edged, fresh-off-the-tava porotta in this city?! I walk into restaurants full of hope, place my order with the sincerest request: “എനിക്ക് ചൂടുള്ള മൊരിഞ്ഞ പൊറോട്ടയാണ് വേണ്ടത്.” And what do I get? A lukewarm, lifeless, soggy disappointment that tastes like it was fried during the British Raj. Even worse, the waiters act like I just asked for their kidneys on a plate. The look they give me! As if I’m the problem for expecting a porotta to be… you know… hot and crispy? Where is the concept of a ‘live porotta’? Do they not understand the sacred joy of tearing into a golden, flaky, steaming porotta fresh from the fire? Here, I feel like an outcast, a lone warrior fighting for the crispy edges that are my birthright. Trivandrum foodies, I need answers. Am I alone in this struggle? Do hot, crispy porottas exist in this city, or am I doomed to a life of heartbreak?