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It was Sunday. The day of the week when my thoughts wander towards breakfast once I wake up. That happens everyday. So what’s special about Sunday? Sunday’s the time to detox yourself of the week. A change of scene. Cooling down before the new week begins. The time to go out to someplace nice. A happy place for happy thoughts. Back home at Bandra this means Candies. Crowded. Mad. Loved. Coffee Bean and Tea leaf for great sandwiches. Coffee, sunk into deep sofas. Occasionally Gloria Jeans if food is not what matters that morning. Just a good coffee to sip on while you reflect on life. Or the worst horror, calling in dosas from Shiv Sagar.

I was at KL this Sunday. Plans made the previous night. Plans followed even if it meant just a couple of hours of sleep. Clouds looming in the majestic view from the drawing room.  Four sets of bleary eyes and yet to be woken up tummies heading to the aptly named Restoran Sunrise at Seepak. They have only one dish. Roast Duck. They are shut on Mondays. Open only for lunch. They start at 11.30 AM. Shut once stock ends. No. Not an Irani Cafe of Mumbai or Pune. A Chinese restaurant in Mumbai.

We stood in a queue. The crowd was as huge as that at Candies. And like Candies, full of happily families inside. Enjoying the food and the moment. A little Chinese girl with chubby cheeks sipping intently on a straw summing up the feel of the place.

We were on tenterhooks and breathed a sigh of relief when we got a table before the ducks got over. Soon the dexterously chopped duck from the lady at the door reached us. Boiled rice, veggies, herbal tea and a big platter of sliced roast duck.

I took my first bite and immediately knew that it was worth getting up well before breakfast time back home.

Crackling skin with soft delicate fat nestled below it. That would be great right? A Chinese opera. But what do you say about meat which vies for your attention with these two stalwarts? Meat which is so good that the flavour has spread evenly to every bit of the bird. A dish which delights all senses. You tear off the meat. Years of conditioning making it difficult to put the bones on the tables unlike others around me. A rich red colour which fills you with energy. Lulls you out of your Sunday stupor. And tastes which tickle, tantalise, tease and bring tears to your eyes. Only the head was left for ‘angels’ in deference to local customs. It was worth waking early up for the best roast duck in the world. Tucked in a little corner of KL.

Followed by the ideal dessert. An afternoon spent in the arms of deep all embracing sleep, ‘nature’s sweet restorer’ as the bard called it.

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