Food spirituality in Bangalore

The setting – fit for royalty; The ambience – evoking tranquillity; And the food – a gastronomic marvel.

That’s The Higher Taste for you. Situated atop a hill, within the premises of the Iskon Temple in Bengaluru, the restaurant takes its name quite literally. Here, food finds a new meaning – as a philosophy and a way of life. Step inside and let a truly spiritual experience begin.

Your journey of awesomeness commences immediately upon entering. Hushed interiors, tastefully done, greet you. A polite host steps up to assist you, and you know you are in good hands.

The split-level restaurant has a buffet section below and seating one level up. As you walk up the wooden steps, somewhere you hear the gentle murmur of falling water. Almost at once you sense a marked change in yourself, as the sound washes away your fatigue and soothes you.

You’re ushered into your private alcove where you sink into high-backed, comfortable chairs, ready to enjoy your meal at leisure and in absolute privacy. Much required to do full justice to your meal.

The Higher Taste will appeal to your sense of excellent cuisine that is good not just for your taste buds, but your body, mind and soul too. The menu has carefully-selected dishes that have once catered to the palates of royalty. Here you can explore both, South Indian traditional delicacies as well as rich North Indian cuisine. But more uniquely, it is the offering of ‘saatvik’ food that makes this place so distinct.

Pure, positive and beneficial – that is the essence of all that is saatvik. Cooked without onions, garlic, eggs and caffeine, and not over-spiced either, the food is incredibly delicious and leaves one wanting more.

There is a lot to choose from this all-vegetarian menu. Here’s what a seasoned visitor recommends. Start with Parippu Vada (a dal vada) accompanied by mint chutney and Ginger Paniyaram (fluffy idli-like balls) that comes with a coconut chutney and tomato chutney, both tempered with curry leaves and urad dal. For the main course, select among their many types of dosas along with curries that complement. We suggest the Ragi Dosa (made from finger millet) and the Higher Taste Special Dosa. The dosas also come with liberal helpings of the chutneys mentioned earlier. Team it up with Raja Bhojanam (a gravy-only dish made from pastes of various dry fruits, truly a feast for the kings, as the name suggests), some “Urulai Sukka” (dry potato with ginger masala) and Vazhaipoo Murungai Kolambu (banana flower gravy).

Finish the meal with some traditional sweets. Or go with our recommendation of The Higher Taste exclusive Paan (betel leaf) ice-cream infused with finely chopped betel leaves as is a perfect end to a journey of flavours.

A word of caution before we part. It would do well to have a reservation, as this place is immensely popular and also stops serving after 3 pm. You don’t want to go back disappointed after having braved the traffic and roads of Bengaluru.

I ate Chiranjeevi’s dosa!

It was a typical sultry day in Hyderabad when we climbed down the broad stone steps of Golkonda Fort and stepped back into the hubbub that surrounds it.

“What next”, asked Sujata, “lunch?” I thought she’d never ask. It was close to 4 pm and even though my body was beginning to crave its evening dose of caffeine, my midday meal still remained. Back to the car, us and the kids, head off towards the city. Amidst Sujata’s pleasant chatter about Hyderabad, I could think of just one thing – sustenance.

10 minutes later, which had seemed like hours, we pulled up in front of Chutney’s Coffee House in Jubilee Hills. A coffee house? My fantasy of a hot and delicious meal disintegrated, and the pieces settled heavily in the void that was my stomach.

Stepping in, I was greeted by a tastefully done décor. People talking in hushed voices and waiters gliding by noiselessly; hope awoke in me again. A table for two we needed; the children had gone off to a popular fast food joint, having dropped us outside. A smiling host acquired one for us and led us to it.

“You must have the steamed dosa”, Sujata was quite insistent. I could have had anything right then. And I’m glad I took her up on her suggestion.

What arrived on our table was one of the most delicious dosas I’ve ever tasted. Steaming, mildly-fragranced, soft and immensely healthy. Chiranjeevi, the Telugu superstar, who is extremely health-conscious, has shared this family recipe with the restaurant. That, along with the amazing taste, is what makes this the most popular item on the menu.

I was keen to sample other dishes too, but the dosa had other ideas. Don’t let the ‘steam’ deceive you. A delight to the taste buds, it packs quite a punch. Halfway through I had to sit back, content just savouring the many chutneys (a pungent accompaniment to many Indian foods) – coconut, tomato, ginger and dal – as I did.

As I wait, I study the menu card. An entire section is devoted to Chinese and Muglai food. But when you visit a South Indian specialty restaurant, you would do well to meander around that cuisine only. The South Indian Thali is a sumptuous fare, at a very reasonable price too. Then there’s the Babai Hotel Idli. Dripping in pure ghee and butter, this sinful indulgence is a must have.

Besides the exotic, there is of course a wide selection of regular dosas, idlis and upma to have at Chutneys. Finish with a glass of buttermilk or a cup of classic filter coffee for a typical South Indian meal experience.

Everybody loves Chitale

Pune is synonymous with Chitale, which is synonymous with Pune. One cannot exist without the other. Deeply entrenched in the minds of even out-of-towners, Chitale Bandhu Mithaiwale is to Pune what the Taj Mahal is to India.

Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit there. But yes, you could take Chitale out of Pune but never out of a true-blood Punekar. And today their fame is spreading far and wide, along with their flavours and aromas.

My love affair with Chitale started after my X board exams. My result was just above average, but the pedhe my parents distributed were incredibly delicious. Soft, perfectly sweetened, just the right size to pop into your mouth, the pedha is an all-time favourite. Choose from more than half a dozen varieties within that.

If pedhas are not you, perhaps you should head for the burfi section. Innovation is the keyword here. Other than the standard badam (almond), pista (pistachio), mixed dry fruit and malai (cream), there are burfis of every kind. If there’s a fruit, it’ll find its way into a sweet. Mangoes, coconuts, pomegranates, oranges, pineapples, apples – all used to create sweet magic.

And this is just the beginning. An entire section devoted to laddoos (nearly a dozen), more than many types of chivdas, and an equally staggering array of quick-pick, savoury snacks. That’s Chitale Bandhu for you. Fits in a sentence here, but takes a large shop to accommodate it all. The delicacies are many; the confusion, but natural. Consider yourself warned.

But let me not intimidate you. Staff at Chitale is warm and friendly, patiently helping you make your choices. Once you’ve stacked up on the sweets, a stroll down the savoury section will bring you face-to-face with a strong contender for the leading position at Chitale. As famous as the pedha is the bakharwadi.

Commanding a separate section in the shop, it needs a paragraph to do it full justice. An iconic production from the house of Chitale, it is like a Swiss Roll, only crisp, sweet-n-spicy and infinitely more delicious. The perfect tea-time snack, this bite-size savoury is duplicated by many, but none come within miles of the uniqueness that is the Chitale offering.

Kept alongside is chakali, dhokla, kachori, surali wadi, shev, chivda and more – enough savouries to stock your house for a month.

For all the sweets they sell, Chitale are notoriously famous for their exacting conduct. Such as the serious signs asking you to maintain your silence. Or the no-nonsense ones telling you that packing charges will be extra. Or the sign outside that expects you to manage your shopping around their timing.

Yes, typical Pune-style, Chitale needs an afternoon siesta. Don’t plan on visiting the store between 12 and 4 in the afternoon or you’ll be sorely disappointed. This is true of their Sadashiv Peth and Deccan stores. The recently-opened one in Aundh is more mindful of the cosmopolitan nature of customers and stays open all day.

Despite all these rules and the strict timings and the non-nonsense atmosphere, Chitale enjoys a fine patronage. Naturally, with such marvellous delicacies up for grabs, all’s forgiven.

All are welcome

For any other place, this undistinguished façade, with non-descript plastic furniture, standard yellow paint and slow-moving fans would be business suicide. But for Good Luck Café, it is simply its identity. One that draws crowds, and has been drawing them, feeding them Iranian food since 1935, as the sign at the entrance proudly proclaims.

Step inside Café Good Luck and you are greeted with familiarity and comfort and a sense of belonging. For its myriad throngers, Good Luck is a homecoming. It is a place to just be.

I make my way to the only vacant table, which by itself was surprising, as Good Luck is usually packed, morning to night. Its menu offers a staggering array for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And of course, everything in between.

As I wait to be served, I look around. Uncle still sits at the counter watching the going-ons. The fans bring in the warm air. Traffic goes past the open window, although the fumes never make it in. The bell chimes when an order was ready. Customers sit for hours over cups of piping hot, sweet tea, reading the newspaper. Even though a sign above asks, in no uncertain terms, to ‘not occupy seats unnecessarily’.

Regardless of what the sign says, Café Good Luck welcomes all, without prejudice of how long you’ll sit or how much you’ll spend. There are those, like me, who take hours on their bun-maska and chai. Others come for the delicious mutton dishes, so good they have to be tasted to be believed.

Vegetarians needn’t fret. There’s plenty to sink your teeth into as well. Tuck into the special veg-thali that is now part of the menu. Or even the veg kathi rolls or regular sabji-roti fare. Whatever your preference, do not pass up a chance to taste the caramel pudding. As delicious as a caramel pudding can be. And all without dipping deep into your pocket. Which is what makes it so popular.

Café Good Luck works on old-world charm and word of mouth and repeat customers. In the last 75 years this Iranian café has seen a multitude cross its doorsill. As much for the food and ambience, as for the way it welcomes everyone. A visit there makes for a nice tryst with Pune’s past, a break from the city, and a moment (or two) of old-school relax.

Where loyalty doesn’t skip generations

There are Udipi restaurants. And there are Udipi restaurants. And then there’s Vaishali, the quintessential hangout place for any true-blood Punekar. Centrally located on Fergusson College Road, it would be easy to mistake Vaishali as a place for youngsters from nearby colleges to be seen in. But walk into the restaurant on any day, at any time, and trust me, you’ll bump into people of all age groups thronging its door. Yes, thronging. And yes, bump into.

After multiple ‘Excuse Mes’, when you’re finally inside, you’ll realise it’s just the beginning. On any ordinary day getting a table at Vaishali is nothing short of a 10-15 minute wait. And that’s after you’ve managed to catch Anna’s eye. There are urban legends of people having waited for almost an hour just because they’d decided they wanted to eat at Vaishali that day. Such is the attraction of this restaurant. And it’s been pulling crowds since forever!

A Fergusson pass-out myself, I’ve lost count of the number of time I’ve been to Vaishali. And I wouldn’t even begin to get into my mother’s college tales. That’s how long this place has been catering to the South Indian cuisine cravings of Punekars. Succulent medu vadas, perfectly-steaming idlis, crisp dosas, an assortment of uttapas, among other delectable fare. All accompanied by bowls of piping hot sambhar and dollops of chutney. Every masala, specially crafted to get the unmistakable ‘Vaishali’ taste.

I’ve had sambhar at many Udipi restaurants, good sambhar that too. But nothing compares to Vaishali’s. My mother, too, has had to concede defeat in the face of her daughter’s steadfast loyalty to this taste. Whether it was really defeat or glee at seeing the next generation also succumb to the charms and aromas of Vaishali, remains to be seen.

Today, of course, the menu has expanded to include more than the usual culinary delicacies of Southern India. Open the menu card and you are greeted by rows of sandwiches, burgers, cutlets, milkshakes, juices and desserts. But not everybody needs the menu card. And not everybody orders the regular fare.

The most anticipated dishes arrive in the evening. After 5 pm, the chat corner opens. What a fantastic spread. Everybody’s favourite is the SPDP – Shev Puri Dahi Batata, for the lesser informed. Four commonplace ingredients, but when brought together in Vaishali, what a magical spin they give.

But enough about the food. What makes Vaishali really tick? What draws the crowds back to it? Is it the ease and comfort of feeling at home? The familiarity of the place and what it offers? The known faces, the taste that‘s been unchanged for years?

Sit indoors or in the terrace. Call a few friends over, exchange pleasantries with the waiters (if you’re a regular, you would know their names and the names of their children), place your order and you can be sure to have a good time.

Some of the friendships at Vaishali go back decades. College friends who’ve kept in touch over the years, now have get-togethers with their spouse and kids, and much later, even with their grandkids. Every new generation progressively discovering its own tastes, and Vaishali building its new fan following – of loyal taste buds.

I’ve been frequenting Vaishali for over 2 decades now. Had a long break in between when I had moved out of the city in pursuit of a career. But I’m back now. Have lost count of the number of times I’ve had my meals here in the last 3 months. But I’m ready for more.

And this is where I must sign off, dear readers. My crisp masala dosa is here and it deserves the full attention of my loyal taste buds.

A question of faith

I last went to Pataleshwar when I was much younger; not young enough to not have resisted the idea though, initially. Was more or less coerced by my mother and cousin. It had been a ‘ladies weekend’ and we (read: them) decided to top-it off with impulsive sojourns around Pune city. Pataleshwar was one. It sounded very religious and a lesson-in-history-in-the-making for my rebelling atheist sentiments. ‘Have a little faith’, said my mother. And so I went along.

Sited at the beginning of Jangli Maharaj Road, on the Ganeshkhind side, Pataleshwar can be found only by those who know its existence. Which is quite unfortunate, actually. As I discovered, much to my pleasant surprise, when I got there.

Tucked away, on the main road, Pataleshwar is a welcome oasis of serenity and solitude in the chaos that is so characteristic of Pune today. The stillness seeks you out and settles upon you the moment you step inside its humble gates. The roar of traffic left a few metres behind; the smoke and dust, already forgotten. It is a respite, albeit temporary.

An insignificantly-small, likely-to-miss, Archaeological Society of India sign greets me, asking me to preserve India’s historical monument. And the cynic in me thinks, ‘Right, I’m going to see chalky hearts and public love declarations anyway’.

The love is there, but in the way the place is maintained. Clean, green, cool… inviting. Just what one needs on a hot summer day. I was sold.

Leaving my mother and cousin behind, I loped ahead. Pataleshwar is beautiful. Not the finest in stone architecture or walls covered with splendid carvings and motifs. But what Pataleshwar offers is simplicity. It doesn’t give much, but then again, it doesn’t ask for much either.

Whether it’s Nandi’s (Shiva’s vehicle and gatekeeper) Mandap –– circular temple carved from sheer rock with its pleasant interiors, or even Shiva’s abode with its hushed silences. As temples go, Pataleshwar is very subdued. A sanctuary. Suddenly I was alone among people. Accepted among strangers. Even my thoughts were whispers in my minds.

I find a rock ledge inside and perch on it, soaking in the calm. My mind, that had been a whirlwind of questions, thoughts, fears and hopes, is silent. Listening to itself, for the first time, in a very long time. The gentle quiet overwhelms me and I feel a prick of tears behind my eyelids. And yet, I am happy.

I wasn’t praying. I wasn’t making an appeal. I wasn’t even sitting with my eyes closed or my head bowed. And I was at peace. No struggles within, no angst, no anxiety. Is this what they call faith?

A bell peals somewhere and shakes me out of my reverie. I wipe my eyes and go looking for my mother and cousin. They are ready to leave. The ‘ladies weekend’ is over, and mother has to head home to prepare dinner. As we leave, I take one last look at the cave temple, knowing I will be back.

I last went to Pataleshwar just yesterday. To still the clamour in my mind and to quiet my thoughts. I felt the familiar tug of the place when I stepped in. And I knew I will find peace. As I did that day, many years ago. It’s just a question of faith.

Sweet surrender at Kumthekar Road

An impossible-to resist range of sweets and savouries

It’s barely 10 am on a warm Sunday morning and I watch, stifling a yawn, as people throng the entrance of Shree Ganesh Pratishthan. A nondescript shop at the mouth of Kumthekar Road, the reason for its fan-following are the scrumptious, piping-hot, perfectly-sweetened jalebis that are up for grabs. And quite literally so, as this once-a-week delicacy is invariably sold-out by midday.

Quietly-popular, this shop was set-up nearly 2 decades ago by Muralidhar Maheshwari, who moved from Indore to Pune looking for better prospects. A self-certified food-a-holic, Murlidhar Maheshwari was infinitely disappointed by the sweets in Pune.

Coming from a city that boasts of rich sweets and savouries, he set-out to give Punekars an experience of the ‘asli mithai’.

The sizzling strings of jalebis

Here, the jalebis are made fresh, in front of you. You name the quantity and the ‘halwai’ picks up the pre-filled cloth pouch to start looping them out in the ghee (clarified butter). This deviation from the oil they are usually fried in elsewhere, is what gives the jalebis at Shree Ganesh Pratishthan their distinct, unmistakable flavour and aroma.

The long strings of jalebis sizzle gently as I talk to Manish Maheshwari, the third generation to manage the shop. “Everything about our shop is the quality we maintain. We don’t offer a large range of sweets, but everything that goes into making them is of the best quality”, says Manish proudly.

From the frying pan into the syrup

As the crowd slowly trickles out, I got my chance to talk to a jalebi connoisseur. Mr Deodhar used to live close by, but now travels kilometres every Sunday to take home a kilogram. Isn’t that a lot? “Well, these are supposed to last the entire week without going stale or losing their crispness. But we wouldn’t know. In our house, they get over in 2-3 days”, he smiles. Would he recommend it to a newcomer to Pune? Most certainly he would.

I hover around the jalebi tray, sniffing in the aroma of tthe still-hot delicacies. “Try one”, says Manish, eager to have me taste it. I take one, two, stop at the third and ask him to pack me 250 grams.

Hot n sweet delicacies

Why did I have a small bag with me today? Remember to carry a plastic bag with you since they don’t promote the use of plastic. I cajoled them into giving me at least a small plastic pouch so I wouldn’t need to squeeze out my bag at the end of the day.

While the biggest draw through the year is the jalebis, the shop has other equally delicious sweets to offer. The rabadi, better known as basundi in Marathi, is unlike any in Pune, they claim. “Even better than some of the renowned sweetshops”, says Manish. “Give madam a sample.” Before I knew it, a small bowl is thrust in my hands. The rabadi is just how he described it – thick, creamy, slightly-sweet, filled with assorted dry fruits and nuts – the way most people like it, and the way I just don’t. I didn’t have the heart to refuse and somehow finished it, mumbling all the right words.

Their Masala Milk (a thick drink of milk, sugar and dry fruits) is also a hot favourite, especially among students. Such is its popularity, that during Kojagiri – a Hindu harvest festival celebrated on a full moon night between the months of September-October – there are traffic snarls around the shop.

What's your favourite?

Muralidhar Maheshwari started Shree Ganesh Pratishthan 20 years ago to give Punekars a chance to experience the richness of his city. What today stands today is an indication that he accomplished his objective. Despite being a Sunday, despite being in the middle of city, far away from where most residential locations, despite the chance of returning empty-handed, Shree Ganesh Pratishthan draws its crowds – a steady and strong loyalty of the people of Pune.