My first breakfast in Kolkata, India.
An Indian person with a friendly smile brought it to me, but the moment I saw it, I used my scouter to measure the oily power, and it broke, of course. The puri, made by shaping wheat flour into circles and frying it, tasted exactly as it looked, perfectly matching the curry-flavored soup. It was such a heavy breakfast that it made me mistake bananas for vegetables.