A Refreshing Dip in the Flowery Drum

Sunny Sunday afternoons would normally see us feed like disdainful sophisticated creatures of elegant art at a rather sumptuous lunch at home; and then dash into the darkened A/C’ed room to fall flat like descendants of the pre historic lizard family, to wallow the rest of the afternoon in snore ridden short naps. Thanks to the bloody scorching sun for that delightful tropical Chennai climate which gifts anyone who so wishes in his/her right mind the most beautiful of all tans, afternoon siestas always seem to be the safest options that we are left with. However, this was one of those Sundays when dad turned on his adventure switch. Of course he had done his bit of the home work in snooping around eateries in and around his place of work. So there we were ... dressed in freshly pressed clothes and rightly perfumed countenances, jumping into our precious four wheeled chariot, driving away to a never before visited promising place that had some how managed to capture my father’s fancy. (Actually there are way too many things that manage to catch my father’s fancy.)

Up and down the Patheon road bridge, spinning around in the middle of nowhere we landed in the supposed parking lot of Prince Plaza. Found memories of vibrant childhood excursions on “Fountain Plaza - Alsa Mall - Prince Plaza” round trips flooded my mind. Wedging the car into an empty slot that we chanced pounced upon; we walked briskly like people of purpose. Riding the elevator to the second floor, we found ourselves being welcomed by the aroma of a smooth blend of Chinese spices. So ... in we walked, into Flower Drum, a vegetarian Chinese restaurant. With dim lit, well spaced and tastefully done interiors; the restaurant was truly inviting. Gladly and quietly we slipped into our comfortable seats. The soft chinky music and a well mannered waiter and above all a quite and sparsely populated surrounding were all that we could ask for. Even before we tasted a spoonful of the food that would soon be served, we could have fallen on our knees and done a Maya styled worship of thanks for such a delightful first impression.

Well we were there for food ... so cutting short all the fuss and getting to the heart of it all, we suppressed the tears of joy that threatened to flood our eyes and scanned the menu cards that we were presented with. There were some really exotic sounding items on the listing. We ordered for some ginger and jade soup to go with crisp fried minced vegetable balls and honey dabbed cauliflower (or was it baby corn?) Manchurian kind of starters. Sipping and nibbling, warning ourselves not to guzzle and gorge like pigs, we ordered for a main course of Kwe-theya (ok .. at least that the way the pronounce it ... flat Thai noodles), spicy Hao Hao mixed vegetable gravy, some rice based dish and a couple of delightfully exciting dishes which had names that could never be pronounced by a true south Indian. Nodding and passing meaningful glances of approval at every mouthful, unanimously we graded the restaurant a full 5 out of 5. Sadly most Chinese restaurants think that sinking their dishes in soya sauce and dousing them with Ajinomotto would fool their customers into thinking that they were eating out of the kitchen of slit eyed chinky people living across the North-Eastern boundaries. Sharply in contract, the food at Flower Drum had a very refinely acuated taste that effortlessly transports you to the foggy foot hills of a wintry Chinese rice field.


Getting back to the table, we ran our finger through the menu card to satiate that naughty sweet tooth in us. Hmm.... I would have loved to miss this part of the recount, for the desserts were not as good as the soups, starters, dimsums or satays. We had ice Katchang and two leeche and peach based desserts. We didn’t mind that however, for on the whole the dining experience was rewarding in itself. Snapping a few pictures over spoonfuls of ice creams, promising to make another visit when my brother gets home, we thanked the polite guy who waited on us and crawled out belly full. Another exquisite feather on a foodie’s hat, Flower Drum!

The Family Sin

Daily news letters from the Men’s Health, 45 minutes at the gym at the crack of dawn, and a very strict luncheon diet of fresh salad. I am an obnoxious health freak. Often my mother would, if allowed, smash the pot of meticulously baked/fried/marinated cheese based European delicacy right into my face, when I make those sordid blood boiling home-food-is-to-carb-n-fat-ridden speech to a qualified dietitian cum pro health care personnel cum out-of-the-world cook, mom. It is but very difficult to shake of the suspicion of my mother slipping in spoonfuls of ghee or well hidden/blended thick shreds of herbed cheese, into otherwise harmless simple home made dinner. Thanks to the weakness for sinful addictive fat glorifying Italian dishes that runs in the family, every other occasion where all the members of a normally disoriented family (ours of course!) choose to decorate the dining table with their respective august presence; there is this unanimous call for an fav Italian or white sauce related dish (If my grandmother was still alive she would have run around in circles spelling a hideous curse and bump us all on the head with her choice frying pan.)

Given the fact that mom is a great cook (no ... I don’t mean the kind of son-mother emotion that spells charred spoiled hapless food made divine by motherly love. Mom has in the past appeared as a highly qualified judge at many cooking competitions.) and father a chef and maestro of south Indian and continental gourmet food; extra pounds have found their way, hands down, around other wise chiseled hips and callipygian features. In short good food is always at an arms length. So, when such a gluttonous family decides to grace unique and something-different kinda restaurants; where do they go???

I don’t want to turn this into another painfully long account of our explorative adventure into the heart of Chennai, a city sadly cloistered with many idly-sambar-coffee eat outs. I shall promise myself to write in a more proper sequence, elucidating in my well appreciated erudite style (a man needs some amount of self motivation you see ...) the numerous houses of foodied experience we have had over the past few months. Adios for now.

A Gujarathi treat at 'Mithai'

It was another boring day at work. The dirty bug we are trying to nail has been evading us for the past three days. And every time the software crashes... it is due to a different reason. Adding to the gloom the grubby horizon turned a threatening dark grey. Bugged of debugging and aimless browsing, I swiveled around in my chair to see the same state of affairs with Bali. Feeling the strong mutual bond of corporate boredom, I walked over to his cubicle to have a small chat. Somehow the topic changed, drifted, transmogrified ... to good restaurants in Chennai. Out of the blue I was reminded of an unassuming eat out in Vadapalani, Which I happened to visit with my family one late evening. As soon as I talked of this place, (btw ... it is called “Mithai” ) Bali suggested that we have dinner at this place today. Realizing, that dinner could potentially make up for the whole wash out day I had had, I agreed to the idea. Calling up home to leave word of my new plans, we made our way towards ‘Mithai’.

‘Mithai’ is a small Gujarathi restaurant serving sumptuous, wholesome, tasty and above all sensible food at reasonable prices. It is located on the Vadapalani Murugan temple road, just a few paces away from Hotel Saravana Bhavan (The self proclaimed Robinhood of South Indian Origin... Bhaa ... that’s the last place on earth I would like to eat at.) Even before we went to ‘Mithai’, we had decided that we would have the Guju Thaali. It is a neat little place, playing decent Bolywood numbers and boasting of polite and prompt service. One look at the menu cards, we ordered for the Thaali and decided to have ‘basundhi’ for desert. Had the place not been so small and the manager not staring at me as if I was going to blow up the place into smithereens, I would have snapped a few shots of the place and a plate full of food. But that’s ok; I guess all food lovers would by now having the laden plate dancing in front of their eyes.

There were three medium sized ‘phulkas’ and a cup of ... hmmm... great smelling ‘basumathi’ rice. There were two varieties of curry, One Dhal item, one ‘moli’ sort of sweetish stuff and a cup of ‘bhoondhi raita’. As frills there were a few ‘fryums’, a stuffed ‘mirchi bhaji’ and a small glass of butter milk. At first it appeared that we might be in need of some more stuff. But half way through the thaali, we were convinced that we are going to need some extra exercise to lay off the dinner effect. Wiping clean the last morsel off the plate, we ordered for cold, rich and heavy ‘basundhi’. Melting in the delight of thickened condense milk dissolving in our mouths, we thanked all the greater Gods of the higher heavens for having invented north Indian sweets. (Hey! ... wait a minute. ‘Basundhi’ is actually a south Indian delicacy. The north Indian counter part is called ‘rabdi’. )

Paying our bill we walked out into the cool night breeze with the Guju delight still lingering on our taste buds. So, there! We hit upon another garden of delight, and the list keeps growing!!!

Dinner Delight at Matsya

It had been a real long time since the three of us (Sara, Bali and I) went out for dinner. So, on one fine boring-post-coffee-break afternoon, it struck me to propose an outing. It was readily accepted. Generally, with respect to matters of food and drink we follow a strict code of honor --- “Never say no/enough!” We fixed the dinner for a Thursday night. And as usual ... Sara calls up (hell no! He didn’t call ... we had to call and ask His highness if he could be kind enough to join us for dinner.) and tells us that somehow ... there is this team of specialized workers who have managed to keep mum all thru the day and taking good note of our dinner plans, they have jumped into the fray at the last minute, to fix Sara with an extremely important job which called for urgent and responsible addressing. So ... there goes one down out of three.

That didn’t stop us (Bali and I). The call of a growling hungry stomach stood far highly esteemed in comparison to passing clouds such as office work. Bali ... anticipating a good hunt, did some amazing net research and hit upon a restaurant named Matsya. They have two branches. One on Thannikachalam road and another in Egmore. The reviews about the Matsya on Thannikachalam road did not sound too encouraging; however the one in Egmore had some interesting and inspiring comments.

So, jumping into the earliest cab from office that went to the Thiruvanmiyur MRTS, we ran from one end of the station to the other to grab our tickets off the counter and dash to catch a train to Park Town. Once there, we shifted trains and got into another heading towards Egmore. On the second train, we had a pleasant surprise when we met a senior and a junior at college, making their way back home from office. After a short and brisk ride, made sweet by traditional leg pullings and btw-what-are-u-doing-now kind of exchanges, we reached Egmore. We tried asking around for this restaurant called Matsya. Surprisingly, no one knew of any eat out by that name! Thanks to the NOP (Net On Phone) service that Airtel provides; pulling out my phone we googled for “Matsya Egmore” and got the exact address. Sufficiently armed with critical info, we managed to spot the hidden niche of exotic feasts. Over the brief stroll towards the restaurant, we read up a few reviews and blog entries explaining the various specialties at Matsya.

Opening the doors to a plush and decently designed setting, we found a corner table to slip behind and become one with the laid back atmosphere there. Service was prompt. The waiter came up to us with the menu cards to choose from. We searched hard for the Uduppi specials suggested on the various reviews we had read. Even as we were struggling to spot one or two, here and there, the waiter recommended that we go in for the Uduppi thaali. Costing Rs.85, he assured us that it would come with all the stuff we were looking for, providing a grand picture of the Uduppi culinary heritage. And so, thaali it was.

First to come was ‘Rasam Vada’. The vada was secondary. The rasam was the highlight. It was the best rasam we had ever had a whiff of. It had the mystery of Chinese clear soup and the home touch of mother’s pepper rasam. As we gobbled the last pieces of our soaked bloating vadas, spiced up with green chutney, we had the next dish being shipped on to our table. On a quarter plate were ... hold a minute ... let me check my phone for the notes I had taken .... ‘Kulzhi Paniharam’ (roasted in ghee), ‘Mangalore Bondas’ and a sweet called ‘Mangalore Bans’. We wanted to get things right. So we had the waiter at our table, taking all pains to teach us the names of every dish on our plates. I guess he was a true Uduppi patriot, for he seemed very delighted at this request of ours. It was just the second course, and the last few bites of it, left us with warning signs that our tanks were getting fast filled up!!! What a shame ... how could we be so impolite as to say no to the delicacies placed in front of us. So we plodded.

Next in line was the main course. A big plate with two varieties of dosas in the middle and a host of other mouth watering, eye popping goodies placed all around in neat little cups. There was a grey-green colored ‘Palak Dosa’ and a bright reddish brown ‘Uppu Pulli Dosa’. Going to the peripheries, there was a Idli like looking dish called ‘Kadubu’, a beaten rice dish called ‘Chitranam’, a ghee dripping ‘Bisi Bela Bhath’, a cup of popular Matsya ‘Sambar’, a rich and generously prepared helping of ‘Curd Rice’, fruit salad and a handful of ‘Uduppi Banana Chips’. You would need a gastronomically wondrous appetite to mouth every dish in front of us and get back home without exploding. But we had an honor to keep. So we justly chose a couple of dishes and ate it to the end, while we settled for a few spoonfuls of the rest, just to take note of the care, quality and taste with which they were prepared. Just as we thought we were done, there arrived the crowning beauty to the dinner delight – ‘Bajhari Dosa’. It was another kind of dosa prepared out of rice and had a special coconut sweet for a side dish. There were tears in our eyes. The waiter perhaps thought they were tears of joy and immense gratitude for an utterly satisfying treat. In reality, we were in a fix. Our minds could not think of rejecting this wonder, sitting there like a glorified treasure waiting for us to grab at. But our stomachs left us with little choice. Mind, the great seers have said, is a mad drunken monkey bitten by a scorpion. So, the mind won and we had the great dosa.

When the waiter came back for the customary – Anything-else-sir enquiry, seeing our faces he felt pretty foolish. He didn’t need an answer. We thanked and sent him off to get us our bill. With the bill paid, we slowly and steadily ... with utmost care levered ourselves onto our poor legs, the new found extra pounds were a bit too much to put up with. Thanking every waiter profusely for a delightful evening we made our way out.

Back at home and the next day in office saw both Bali and me ferociously campaigning for the Egmore Matsya, for a magical Uduppi experience. It just that expansive hearts that we are by nature gifted with, to share all that is good and delightful. [Ooooppss ... did u see that halo ring hovering above my head!!!]