Amar Shonar Bangla

I am just back from a trip to Sree Annapurna of Calcutta (henceforth referred to as SAC) and the 1 hour journey to the place was worth every minute. I have to say that it has been one of the best experiences I’ve had in Chennai so far, and hence I figured it would be an injustice to wait too long to write a “Shonar” (Golden) review for the place.

The place has been at the back of my mind for a while especially after all the glowing reviews at burrp! and at the Chennai Food Guide community on Orkut. With the recession going on, no one is really in the mood to shell out hard earned money for a decent meal, we decided to forgo the air conditioning and some fake flowers for some cheap decent food. Hence, without a moments hesitation, the SAC trip was confirmed. The only tough bit is that we need to travel for about an hour by bus to Egmore to reach the place.

The reviews on burrp! and orkut had prepared us and we were expecting something on the lines of an Udupi restaurant. We weren’t misled. The furnishings are spare and basic. The cash counter nestles in a corner with a profusion of images of Gods and Goddesses. We arrived at about 8pm and we found almost every place taken. But this is more of a communal eatery than a regular restaurant and table sharing is apparently the norm. We politely requested a friendly Bengali couple if we could share their table, and they gladly agreed. There is no menu card, but the fare is displayed on a large white-board on the wall. Unfortunately for us, most of it was in Bengali. This isn’t a drawback for most customers as 99% of the clientele happen to be Bengali. We could see a few items written in English, and for a moment I wrongly assumed that they were translation of the Bengali phrases for the hapless few non-Bengalis who ventured there.

Bengalis, are generally peace loving people and have a heart made of 24 Carat Gold. This fact was re-established, when we naively asked the couple beside us if the English on the menu-board was a translation. The nice lady very patiently put this misconception to rest and pointed out a few items, and proceeded to suggest a few for us. She provided a brief description of each one, so that we could choose. She explained that the Kalia Fish Curry was a red sauce based dish and the Fish Pathuri was steamed fish covered with mustard paste. We were thankful for the short description and we proceeded to decide.

All the people in the restaurant seemed to be waiting for something and so were we. A few waiters could be seen, but none of them seemed to be taking any orders except for providing Mineral water & cold drinks. However, suddenly, as if on some unseen cue, they approached each table and took orders. There has to be a perfectly logical explanation for this behaviour, but unfortunately, I was not privy to it. Anyway, we were ravenous and were only too glad when the waiter came to our table. We decided not to dwell on mysteries of this type and proceeded to order. Based on the nice lady’s recommendations, we decided on Fish Kalia, Fish Pathuri (made with Bhetki fish) , Mutton Kasha (pronounced Kosha), Jhingdi Malai (Prawns) and Rotis. Our order arrived soon. Portions are quite small, but justify the price we pay for them.

We dug in with relish. The Kalia Fish tasted splendid. I believe it was lightly fried and then served with gravy. The Jhingdi Malai, which happened to be a prawn curry, was also very tasty. But the prawns were tossed in whole, unshelled. By the time we unshell them, there is little left to chew on. But the gravy is awesome. The Fish Pathuri came wrapped in a banana leaf, and we opened this little parcel with great expectations. Inside I found a kind of Chutney. My initial assumption was that the chutney had been made out of the fish. But as i tried to extract it from the banana leaf, I saw the steamed fish hidden under the chutney (I call it Chutney out of lack of a better word. Perhaps the Bengalis have a word for it). The chutney tasted very pungent and frankly I did not like it very much. But it seems to be a very popular dish as everyone seemed to be ordering it. The rotis were soft and though they weren’t phulkas, they did not have the south-indian signature of oil on them. The pick of the day was the Mutton Kasha. It was the most tastiest mutton dish I have ever tasted. 2 small but succulent pieces of mutton were floating in a rich gravy. The best part was that, it was cooked in such a way that the gravy had the flavour of mutton & vice versa. The gravy had a rich, buttery taste to it, which I attribute to the fat from the mutton. The gravy had been thickened using potato. This only reaffirms the fact that potato and mutton are the best of chums, especially when they go for a swim in some gravy.

The three rotis didn’t last very long, and soon we were licking our fingers waiting for the waiter so we could order some more. Unfortunately, the waiter who had taken our order seemed to have vanished. Finally I spotted him outside, making rotis, out of reach. I tried to signal another waiter, but even though I managed to grab their attention twice, they soon lost interest when they found out I was beckoning them for a second serving. I found this rather strange, but I think you have to order all that you need the first time they take your order. The waiters were bustling about taking other people’s first orders. I caught sight of a very large fried fish on another table, which apparently the nice lady had left out of her description. I wanted it badly, but when my second attempt to order it ended up futile, I threw in the towel since a bunch of young Bengalis were waiting for us to finish so they could have our seats, and we paid the bill. Apparently, you get to order just once.

The best part about this place is that the sense of camaraderie that all the patrons feel. Our table was shared by three different groups. Ourselves, the nice couple and another Bengali family – husband, wife and kid. I noticed that the couple immediately struck up a conversation with the family. The couple were also there for the first time, but since they were Bengali, they knew the dishes and helped us with the orders. There is a low hum of soft spoken Bengali in the place and a slow Bangla song- perhaps Rabindra Sangeet is piped over the music system. There is the occasional burst of laughter when some one cracks a joke. There is a sense a brotherhood, and of meeting others of your own race, in a place far away from home. The Bengalis don’t come here just to eat some food that reminds them of home. They also come here to bond. This is the quality that stuck me as the best thing about the place, the reason why I will rate its ambiance 5. Ambiance is not only just pretty flower arrangements and fancy tableware. There is a sense of being at home in this place. The owner and his wife take care of the bill. Luckily, everyone seems to know either English or Hindi. Otherwise we would’ve had a tough time, as orders are taken in Bengali.

Also, since the waiter realized we weren’t Bengali, he made it a point to label each dish when he placed it in front of us. This doesn’t happen at the other tables. The best part is that the prices are really cheap! A roti cost Rs 4. The cheapest roti I have come across in Chennai. Average cost of a dish is about Rs 35. Our total bill came to about Rs 165. Compared to the hundreds I’ve thrown about in other restaurants, this is a paltry sum. And there is a sense of satisfaction. Nothing can beat that.

There isn’t much fare for vegetarians, except a Veg Thali and a Pulao. The Bengalis live on fish, and fish occupies three fourths of the menu. There isn’t any dessert either. I had hoped for some Rasgulla, but with my waiter-calling debacle, I forgot about it. Rasgulla might have been one of the Bengali phrases on the menu, but I will have to go there again to find out. And go there again I will, since its cheap, the mutton is to die for, and I need to taste that big fried fish!

For the Rating,

Ambiance: 5
Food: 5
Value for Money : 5
Service : 3

Total : 4.5
Verdict : Must try even if you have to walk on red hot coals to get there.

If you ever pass by Pantheon road in Egmore in the evening, you might want to drop in to SAC for some simple Bengali fare. Shubha Bidhai.

Cheers!

PS: I ended the day with a Meetha Paan and an Ice cream soda. I also have some Chilly fish fry takeaway that I had packed on the way back (not from SAC). I intend to eat that now.

Spice and Ice

When I was a kid, which is to say, I was still in school, the Semia Upma used to be a dish which used to be a last resort snack which I would accept to eat only on pain of death from hunger. However, 4 years of College hardened my stomach & 2 years at work have kept me away from Semia Upma for a long time. Its only when you leave something alone for a long time that you truly miss it. The same can be said for Mum’s cooking. A couple of days ago, a whim seized me and I felt like having Semia Upma. Bought a packet of Bambino’s best and brought it home. I talked my roommate into having Semia Upma for dinner. Actually, it was quite simple, as he had never tasted it before. And the Tastemaster’s word is Law when it comes to food in my house (Since I do all the cooking).

After a quick call to Mum to brush up on the nuances of Semia Upma-ing, I dispatched my roomie to go and buy green chillies and curry leaves. I had brought home a coconut & went over to my cousin’s place to grate it. I spent a sweaty 20 min labouring over the blade & my Sister-in-law was impressed at my debut coconut-grating performance. I brought home the coconut shavings & shoved it in the freezer as dinner was still some time away.

After whiling away sometime online & after doing a few exercises, I called up Amma for the afore mentioned Nuance-gathering talk. She said she had bought a coconut grater & explained where to locate it. I thanked her for the delayed update & she retorted that I never remember anything that is said to me.

My roomie had procured the green chillies, but could not find any curry leaves. After lamenting this tragedy suitably, I proceeded to cook the Semia Upma. Countless recipes can be found online, So I won’t bother with the “1 cup Semia & salt to taste”. I’ll just describe the fun parts.

My roomie had procured some light green chillies that were quite big. I was chopping them for the dish. I had chopped three & I asked if he wanted me to add one more. He said, “I’m a Mallu. I love spicy food” or words to that effect. I then proceeded to bestow some Tastemasterly wisdom, on him: “The lighter & bigger the green chillies, the more likely they are to be used in Molaga Bajjis and the more likely they are non-spicy. When the Tastemaster bestows such pearls of wisdom, my roomies listen and nod their heads obediently.

With a flourish, I proceeded to prepare the Semia Upma. Soon it was done ( Will give Maggi’s 2 minutes a run for its money anytime). After I pronounced “Its done!” to my roomie, I realised that the cocount shavings were still in the freezer. But since it was too late, I consoled myself that I could use it for some prawn curry I’ve been planning. While I was dreaming about my coconut flavoured prawn curry, I noticed, through the corner of my eye, my roomie have a spoonful of the Semia Upma. Through the same corner of my eye, I saw his face turn pink to purple to puce. I figured it must be the Chennai heat. Then, after the customary scraping of the vessel, I too proceeded to have a spoonful.

Vesuvius Erupted!

I blinked through the smoke in front of my eyes. I realized my tongue was on fire. But, being the Tastemasterly type, and being the don’t-waste-any-food type, I managed to finish off the plate of gunpowder flavoured Semia Upma. My roomie did the same with his plate. Actually, inspite of the spice, it was quite tasty.

Getting back to the story, after we finished, we could barely make out each other sitting across the room through the tears in our eyes. I suggested that we buy an Ice Lolly (retails for Rs 4/- and is made by Skei and sold by a dealer quite close to home). My roomie was only too happy to nod his head.

I dashed off on my cycle, metaphorically with my posterior & literally with my tongue on fire. I bought 2 for me & one for him (He said that was enough). I just like the stuff. Not that I felt one wouldn’t douse the fire. Soon I was back with three Pineapple flavoured lollies & we happily licked away to soothe our flaming tongues. After a while, i proceeded to devour my second lolly with relish in a more relaxed frame of mind.

Hence ends the saga of the Semia Upma.

NB: I prepared Semia Upma again today, since my roomie hadn’t had enough of it (he bought a kilo of semia. I think he intends to stave off the drought in ethiopia). He forgot the chillies, and so we liberally sprinkled it with red chilly powder. Though it looked dangerous, it tasted just fine. Oh! And I remembered the coconut shavings today.

Cheers!

PS: Though some elements of this are true, Masala has been added at appropriate places to spice up the story.