To my local Pakistani quick-food joint:
I’d go for your palak on basmati any day. But must you insist on microwaving my food in plastic?
If you don’t want a plastic box, try it on a styrofoam dish, you say.
I nod, wistfully watching as my poor lunch spins around in that hotbox of radioactivity, oozing toxic compounds, dripping in BPA, draining phthalic acid rot…
No doubt my lunch will cut my adulthood in half.
All in all, a small cost to pay though, I think.
Nobody’s spinach is as good!