Word: gruelingly
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...Bangalore you have to try a dosa or an idli, the breakfast staples of southern Indians. Dosas are thin crepes made with a rice-and-lentil batter. The same batter is used to make steamed white dumplings called idlis. Both are served with coconut chutney and spicy sambhar (lentil gruel). Most of the restaurants specializing in these dishes are spartan but clean, and a really satisfying meal can be had for a song. The standouts include the Mavalli Tiffin Room, tel: (91-80) 2222 0022, a Bangalore institution, and Dosa Stop, tel: (91-80) 2526 6467. The latter's specialty...
...crop yields reach only about a half-ton per acre, about one-third of normal. This year, because of the drought, she will get almost nothing. She reaches into her apron and pulls out a handful of semi-rotten, bug-infested millet, which will be the basis for the gruel she will prepare for the meal that evening. It will be the one meal the children have that...
...Dartboard has had to reconcile himself to any number of unpleasant surprises: being deported to the Quad, receiving e-mails from TFs inquiring into Dartboard’s membership in the realm of the living—and, of course, acclimating Dartboard’s sophisticated palate to the gruel served up by the culinary Rembrandts at Harvard University Dining Services (HUDS). That last struggle has, on the whole, been a remarkably smooth one: for as awful as the dining hall can be at its worst (Brunswick will never be a very tasty city, despite the best efforts of HUDS?...
...Does the idea of drinking graham cracker milk gruel make you laugh or feel ill or both? What about accidentally crushing a mole's skull under your heel and hearing it crack and then putting its severed paw into water, like an avocado pit? Or watching someone shoot staples into their eyeballs for beauty? Or eviscerating a small-horse-like thing and discovering embryos? Your answers will go a long way in determining how you will take to this book...
...which veins throb with the shingles that have blinded her left eye and scarred that side of her face. At 39, she looks 70. The agonizing thrush, a kind of fungus, that paralyzed her throat has ebbed enough to enable her to swallow a spoon or two of warm gruel, but most of the nourishment flows away in constant diarrhea. She struggles to keep her hand from scratching restlessly at the scaly rash flushing her other cheek. She is not ashamed to proclaim her illness to the world. "It must be told," she says...