I count myself blessed for having had the opportunity to eat at the most exotic places in the world…to have been invited to dine with some of the finest cooks in the world…and eaten food that is undeniably gourmet.

How I managed that without actually going to some or rather, most…of the known food destinations…and how I talk of the finest cooks in the world without ever having been on the Master Chef trail is understandably a mystery. Just as my nomination of the world’s best food.

But the yardstick you see is what makes the difference. I do not measure anything using the norm…and definitely not the mind. To me, everything is a functional unit of the heart. It is this that defines my perception of the most exotic places. So while places like a lonely Srilankan Beach do figure on my list and a personal seaside barbeque with a live band playing just for my family will always be a fond memory, also on my list of the exotic are quaint little hole-in-the-wall places like 13 Dhaba where I get all the love I need for free.

It’s not about the food you see…and it almost never is. It’s about a state of mind, a state of the heart and a certain vibe. Some places make you feel special and whatever you eat there is always delicious. Some people serve the best but miss out on something and a lot, as they say, is lost in translation.

The same with drinks. The finest whiskey or the most exquisite wine cannot compare to a cup of timely tea or coffee or even for that matter, a glass of chilled water. There are many times when I have just had a glass or two of water at home and felt that I had been served some special mineral water from the source of the Ganges.

Another kind of food that I discovered had a special feel about it is the Langar Food. When my Sardar friends told me about it, I did not realise…but I have been partaking for a few days now…food from a community kitchen that runs on the fire of one man’s passion to feed a society…and I must admit that the taste is amazing.

I have always thought that the simpler derivatives of every cuisine are the cornerstones of that particular specialty…curd rice and pickles for the South Indian…dal roti for the Northerners…some fish and rice for the Bengalis…vada pav for the Maharashtrians…dhoklas etc. etc. etc.

The satisfaction of eating a simple, honest, unpretentious meal is more fulfilling than many a gourmet spread. And it’s happened too many times for me to think that this is an aberration.

What makes it so good? Is it the timing? The venue? The state of your heart? Or is it just a Universal Reality that we prefer to ignore most of the time?

I do not know. But it often makes me wonder…is divinity susceptible to the ornate? Or is it more genuinely present in the simplest of souls?