Wild Discovery

“Even Zarvana Bhaban and Gurugun Idly Shop are totally commercialized, and they don’t even know what south Indian taste is”, shattered my ideas of great south Indian food, at the remark of a very senior (and hence incredibly credible) source of mine. Quite despairingly though, he had to rush for a meeting and we didn’t happen to meet for the actual whereabouts of great south Indian food.

Enter another source, not as senior, but knows the buttons of his phone. “Oru guest irruke, nalla south Indian food vennum” were the words I thought I heard.

“OK sir, I shall try this place definitely tomorrow.”

So this place, the ‘Mylai Karpagambal Mess’, tucked away close to the Mylapore Shivji Temple, fell at the end of my 3-odd km jog, through the morning chores of the vegetable vendors, the corner snack vendors and many others (this is otherwise along either the RK Road or the TTK Road, rife with the rich-white-collar-I-need-to-get-in-better-shape individuals).

0650AM: “Are you open yet?”

“Time.”

“How much time?”

“20 minutes.”

I go jog another km, and by the time I am back, this place is completely transformed, with the fragrance + smoke of the incense sticks pervading each corner of a tungsten-lit dining hall.

Out of the 10-odd Tamil words that I know, I had to yank out a couple that would help me ask him ‘what was hot and could be served immediately’. This was thanks to him asking me whether I wanted chilled or room temperature, on me asking the same in English.

Exactly 63 seconds later, there it is, pongal, with cashews and black pepper, with a finger-touch of ghee on top. I had not forgotten how divine it is to have pongal with vada and sambar and chutney, and so have made sure two big crisp vadas with small coconut pieces and black pepper embedded, awaiting being a part of the treat.

Looking around, I infer it is a sin to ask for spoons etc, and decide to be a part of the crowd, gorging using my hands.

“Hot; careful”.

This was new. I had never been to a place where I paid for the food and still received this homely warning. Maybe it was because of my clothes, that told him I didn’t fit, and needed extra instruction.

Almost guessable towards the end: no tea; only coffee or milk. I try the former, much to my delight – getting what I think must be the authentic coffee Discovery T&L crew go gaga about.

0731AM, I am out, on my way back to my room, planning to take an auto whose driver I think says “dbd bdbd anjun idhu naallakurtnangilam first poittrukkam” when I try to bargain.

Stomach full of celestial treat – no mood to haggle more.

Here I am, getting ready for office, and of course, to convey extreme gratitude to our Sir, Mr ALS.