His statement was punctuated with her responding nod, "I admit to not being very familiar with Western food, even now." What she had tried in Middlesex that had been affordable when she had been a child had always seemed to bland, she had not understood it. Kheer might have been rice pudding, but it managed to outstrip by miles the spices in nearly every British dish she had tried. "But I do like pancakes."
She did love milk, however, Rita really did. Milk in her home country was nearly both expensive and nowhere near as good as what she indulged herself in whenever she could now. It could be just that their cows did not wander free and eat mostly garbage lying in the streets, but as a child Sarita Devkota had been amazed at how sweet the drink could be. Now she took a drink, and nearly hummed in satisfaction at the simple pleasure.
Following his gaze to the window, worry pooled in the bottom of her stomach. "I do hope not like the summer monsoons from my old home," she said slowly, not looking forward to any rocking the ship might do. Not in the least.