Totally unexpected, and thoroughly enjoyed, my driver Selvam surprised my travel partner and I with a roadside picnic lunch one hot, sunny and humid day. For weeks he had mentioned something about a spicy Tamil gravy that we should try. “You will try one day, I will show you”, he kept telling us. Between the thick accent, Tamil music blaring (much to our amusement) and the wind whipping through the car, we barely understood his promises of an authentic Tamil meal.

As we made our way along the roads to Pondicherry, Selvam would slow down along the main markets of small towns. Initially our thoughts were of a need for directions. It seemed odd that a Tamil driver would be lost on roads he must have traveled hundreds of times before. And then with no warning he exclaimed, “Yes, there it is”! We were told to stay in the car, not hard to argue with since the temps were flirting with 100º and the A/C was blasting, as he made his way out of sight. Five minutes later he returned with a bag stuffed full of something very hot and smelling delicious.

Selvam was beaming from ear to ear now. He began speaking so fast in his thick Indian English with giggles and grins neither of us had a clue what was coming out. A big, beautiful and bushy tamarind tree, commonly lining the roads of Tamil Nadu, was spotted and agreed as a perfect spot to enjoy lunch. I was completely out of my element and loving the idea of eating as a wandering tourist would.

Then came the big unveil. Fresh and piping hot parotta was wrapped in newspaper with a side of spicy chicken salna in a plastic bag that was threatening to burst open any second. Selvam stood and watched as we made makeshift bowls out of newspaper. I didn’t care where the food had been prepared, whether is was “safe”, or what the next day would bring. The spicy exotic smells of the salna mixed with the slightly crunchy exterior of the parotta were just too intoxicating to stave off. We threw the formalities to the wind, digging into our lunch with both hands. And the taste, my goodness the taste. Sometimes the cheapest and most unlikely place one finds to eat while traveling India turns out to be the most spectacular meal. Our impromptu picnic, Indian style, was just that.

But just as we were hitting our stride, fighting over the remaining parottas and gravy, along came 7 women walking the busy highway. Workers in the nearby rice fields, they were on lunch break making their way home until they spotted us. Of course they were fascinated to see two tourists eating on the side of the road. Fortunately for all involved they stopped under the shade of the tree to investigate. A conversation about skin tone and hair (both of which they liked about my female travel companion) was translated by Selvam. The idea of us eating a common Tamil food on the roadside really had the women laughing and joking with Selvam. Several of them began brushing my companion’s hair, then comparing skin color and ultimately giving her a new hair do.

Within 10 minutes they had posed for pictures and satisfied their curiosity in us. We waved goodbye and watched them set their pace back on the hot tar road back to their homes. And with our lunch over, we packed back into the car and set off for Pondicherry.