Are Chinese onions next!

On recoil, my sister and I grew up rather fond of the onion. So much that we would go for the attack wherever we could. A visit to a restaurant wasn’t complete without father whispering to the waiter about the family’s queer dietary precondition. But Mother often went with just raita and roti; there was seldom a restaurant where ‘pyaaz’ wasn’t omnipresent.

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