"Hmm.. here is your butter. Hold out your hand. No! No! don't come near me!! Don't touch me!! ugh! Here! and remember, don't come into the house like this. Clean yourself thoroughly." He grinned , accepted the white butter and slathered it on to this 'paav' and eagerly devoured it. He then went to the back of the house, to a lone tap and 'thoroughly clean up', chuckling to himself and then entered the house.
My father is a raconteur and this kind of family talk and laughter were the highlights of my India trip. I enjoyed this little anecdote my Father told me as I soaked slices of brown bread in a saucer of water and squeezed them. We were sitting at the family dining table and I was doing the prep work for Vegetable Cutlets.
I love hearing tales of his childhood and how things were in India before Independence and how VERY orthodox and traditional his family was, in fact, how ultra conservative Bijapur was. Eating out was not acceptable and 'western' or non-Hindu / Brahmin food was a big no-no. Eating bread or paav ( baked in a non-Hindu) made my Grandmother shudder! How different from this day when one does not stop to consider anything except in making a choice in the various brands or very occasionally , white or brown bread!