I thought the term was lah-dee-dah but the dictionary told me otherwise. Mmhmm.
So yes, while i love my filter kaapi (coffee) made in pure South Indian style, i do have these
lah-dee-dah la-di-da moments where i want to have my simple kaapi in a fancy avatar.
Like today, for example.
A few weeks back, I bought this cup and saucer for Mom whose erstwhile cup was cracked. And i do not like my Mom (or Dad or anybody for that matter) drinking or eating from ceramic ware that has even a smidgen of a crack, even if it is of sentimental value.
Of course, Dad is obstinate and i cannot do much about the broken china mug (whose handle has been deftly stuck to the body with adhesive with superpowers. He is the sentimental kind, you see, and situations like a broken piece of favourite crockery have to be handled with care.) that he drinks his morning coffee from. Yes, he has a separate cup for his evening tea. No, he does not share either.
But Mom is easier to convince. And so, i got her to start using the pristine white cup (that came with the saucer which is now one of my dearest props for food photography) while the older cup still sulks in a corner. You can ignore its feelings; it’s a li’l cracked, you know.
So yes, today i felt la-di-da and poured my filter kaapi from a steel tumbler into the immaculate white cup till the froth was on the verge of overflowing but not quite. Veteran coffee-pourers know exactly when to stop. And, as evident, they know no modesty when it comes to their filter coffee.
When i’d had my fill of clicking satisfactory photographs of the beautiful coffee in the gorgeous chinaware, my heart brimmed with glee as did the coffee. Coffee is one of my most favourite things to photograph, in case you did not know that already.
Did i enjoy my coffee in this fancy avatar?
I poured it back into the unassuming steel tumbler, gulped it down and carried on with my day.