Dubbulroti and The Pop-up toaster
I must have had my first exposure to the pop-up toaster when I was 7 or 8 years old. In some comic book, possibly Archies. I had seen a few toasters , but a pop-up toaster was like science fiction. I distinctly remember being fascinated by the concept. One wouldn’t have to stand around the toaster for fear that the toast might get burnt and one wouldn’t have to periodically open the toaster to see if the toast was properly done. So one could keep on reading comics, or just stand around whistling smartly and carefree, while this marvel of technology silently went about its work.. and voila.. the perfect brown toasts would pop-out. Of course pop-up toasters were not available then in India, so it was really like science–fiction anyway.
As life unfolded, for no particular reason, I never actually used a pop-up toaster for a long, long (and long) time. So by the time I actually did get around to using one, the fascination had faded. But I could still recall the first exposure, and in fact can still recall it with a feel of joy. Now, as we know, pop-up toasters use a bimetallic strip in the circuit. It changes shape when heated and that can be made to turn the toaster off at a desired temperature or after a desired time interval. At the same time , a spring loaded thingy “pops-up” the toast.
But using a pop-up toaster in India has its own learning opportunities. The voltage fluctuates from day to day and from hour to hour. So the “perfect golden brown” setting of yesterday will produce an under-tanned European today . You ratchet up the setting. And the next day it comes out all smoking and looking like a sunburnt Nigerian. Then again, the pop-up action is so vigorous that the toast fairly leaps out of the toaster…sort of challenging Sergie Bubka to a new pole-vault record. Which is not to say that I don’t get perfect toast now and then.
And so what is Dubbulroti ? Well when we were kids, that’s how we knew bread. Double (from English) and Roti (from Hindi). Of course we never knew that Dubbul was Double. In the small (or even tiny) town that I grew up in the sixties, there was just one bakery. And bread was not sold in grocery (or “provision” shops). The bakery guy had this huge tin-trunk mounted on his bicycle and would make the rounds of residential areas, shouting out his wares. He also carried butter in the same box. I wonder if anyone else has a similar re-collection.
I must have had my first exposure to the pop-up toaster when I was 7 or 8 years old. In some comic book, possibly Archies. I had seen a few toasters , but a pop-up toaster was like science fiction. I distinctly remember being fascinated by the concept. One wouldn’t have to stand around the toaster for fear that the toast might get burnt and one wouldn’t have to periodically open the toaster to see if the toast was properly done. So one could keep on reading comics, or just stand around whistling smartly and carefree, while this marvel of technology silently went about its work.. and voila.. the perfect brown toasts would pop-out. Of course pop-up toasters were not available then in India, so it was really like science–fiction anyway.
As life unfolded, for no particular reason, I never actually used a pop-up toaster for a long, long (and long) time. So by the time I actually did get around to using one, the fascination had faded. But I could still recall the first exposure, and in fact can still recall it with a feel of joy. Now, as we know, pop-up toasters use a bimetallic strip in the circuit. It changes shape when heated and that can be made to turn the toaster off at a desired temperature or after a desired time interval. At the same time , a spring loaded thingy “pops-up” the toast.
But using a pop-up toaster in India has its own learning opportunities. The voltage fluctuates from day to day and from hour to hour. So the “perfect golden brown” setting of yesterday will produce an under-tanned European today . You ratchet up the setting. And the next day it comes out all smoking and looking like a sunburnt Nigerian. Then again, the pop-up action is so vigorous that the toast fairly leaps out of the toaster…sort of challenging Sergie Bubka to a new pole-vault record. Which is not to say that I don’t get perfect toast now and then.
And so what is Dubbulroti ? Well when we were kids, that’s how we knew bread. Double (from English) and Roti (from Hindi). Of course we never knew that Dubbul was Double. In the small (or even tiny) town that I grew up in the sixties, there was just one bakery. And bread was not sold in grocery (or “provision” shops). The bakery guy had this huge tin-trunk mounted on his bicycle and would make the rounds of residential areas, shouting out his wares. He also carried butter in the same box. I wonder if anyone else has a similar re-collection.
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