Transplanting traditional truck driver's breakfast in America and selling it to socialites is crazy enough and it gets worse when it reeks of ugly racism.
"HI! Mah name’s Muffin and I’m your waitress," say blondes with maple syrup-dripping voices greeting people entering diners in the US. In Delhi, at the All-American Diner at the India Habitat Centre, you get a kitschy statue of Marilyn Monroe holding down a flyaway skirt. Next, a BLT—bacon, lettuce and tomato—sandwich gets grilled into a limp oily mess, blaspheming the original, a salad in fresh bread.
Then, the mango smoothies turn your face blue from trying to suck up fruit chunks through reed thin straws. Topping their mocktails, this Indian American Diner even mocks Uncle Sam by refusing to serve guests accompanied by a maid. Transplanting traditional truck driver’s breakfast in America and selling it to socialites is crazy enough and it gets worse when it reeks of ugly racism. Wake up American Diner and smell the hate in your Indian coffee.