I am officially over the hill. I am forty. I have started squinting at small text, watch what I eat, pass time intensely listening for aberrations within my body, talk about it with others, workout as if life depends on it (does it?), examine my belly whenever time permits and try to upgrade to business with no specific purpose. Overall I have become more self obsessed with a veneer of maturity. I am growing old. This post is not to lament about my age and related inconveniences. It is about one breakfast on a rainy Wednesday.

Marriott in Hyderabad, used to be Viceroy earlier, perches over the Hussain Sagar lake. If you can manage to coax the guy at the lobby to give you a lake facing room you have a fabulous view too. Let us cut to the breakfast.

I have not seen such a wide spread in any other boarder. There were house baked goodies – Danish, Croissants, Prune cakes (bowel movement catalyst for the ET reader), cream doughnuts and more. There was South Indian – Pooris, Idlis, Vadas with Bhaji, Sambar and Chutney of astonishing texture and taste. There were parathas and eggs to order. There was another section with no specific nomen clature that had baked beans, potato wedges, grilled mushrooms, baked eggs, breakfast pizzas, bacon, sausages, and grilled chicken with veggies. You walk further to fruits and drinks. There was a well appointed coffee counter with a bored barista who could whip out espresso shots to lactose intelorance nightmare coffee. I was in an intimidating food wonderland.

Yet I stayed sane and limited my breakfast to six whites omelette, grilled veggies, one croissant, one idli and an espresso shot chased with still water.

As I said earlier, I am way mature for a wide spread.