Breakfast in Bangalore – 4

Remember my Breakfast in Bangalore series? 1, 2, 3. So this time, another Bangalore institution – Koshy’s (and not least because it has its own Wikipedia entry).

Bangalore Burrp gives it four stars, various assorted websites call it the ‘pride of Bangalore’, youtube videos sing its praises and Wikipedia claims that dignitaries like Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, Nikita Khrushchev and Queen Elizabeth II have dined there. (Well, it also claims that Koshy’s won MTV’s award for the Most Stylish Place in Bangalore. Um, really?). However, Wikipedia does get this bit right – Koshy’s is a very popular restaurant and hangout on St Mark’s Road, Bangalore, which is a meeting point for journalists, artists, theatre persons, students and foreigners. Founded in 1940, it retains an old-world charm with huge pillars and large fans.

Inside Koshy’s, there is a non-smoking, ‘family’ area and the smoking (friends?) area. It is where visitors are taken when they want to be shown the real Bangalore, it is also where locals head when they want to catch up over a cuppa and appams with stew. Koshy’s has all that is typical of these Bangalore hangouts: old building in the heart of the city, rude waiters who will spot you only when they are ready and willing, mostly average food, lots of eager and cheerful crowds – but then you don’t go there for the food. You go there to discuss or overhear discussions about the state of the city, the world, politics, arts, literature and most other things under the sun. For, Koshy’s is in equal parts cafe, soapbox, theatre and adda.

So head there one Saturday evening or Sunday morning with loads of time on your hands to experience this slice of Bangalore life.

[Cellphone images all - better ones may follow but don't hold your breath on that one].

Also check out this fantastic sketch by Jai Iyer.

Breakfast in Bangalore – 3

Another Bangalore favourite this time – Vidyarthi Bhavan – the king of masala dosa since 1943. Go there on a Saturday for the best Bangalore experience. VB is close to the Gandhi Bazaar circle and was initially meant as a mess for students and bachelors living in that old part of Bangalore. And the interiors are nothing fancy – but who goes there for the decor? And here is a tip – there are those who will argue that the MD at CTR (Central Tiffin Room) in Malleswaram is better. Listen to them politely and then just smirk. And head straight to VB.

If you reach any time after 8 am, you will have to jostle with the locals for a table. It is not an orderly wait but involves standing by the tables which look like they are going to get free and grabbing a space even before the plates are cleared away. The waiters are just a blur as they whizz around with a pile of plates of masala dosa. Don’t rush them, don’t try to catch their attention or ask for random things like upma or rava idli – I am told that they are available on request but stick to their specialty, I say!

Be patient, for good things come to those who wait. One of them will eventually stop by your table for a few nanoseconds to deposit the plates in front of you. The masala dosa is to die for – brown and yummy, with the whiff of ghee – and no sambhar please, only chutney. Enjoy maadi!

Breakfast in Bangalore – 2

Presenting the second in this series, after MTR – New Krishna Bhavan in Malleswaram. NKB, as it is known, is tucked away in a quiet street near the Mantri Mall and is where the mamas of Malleswaram meet every morning for filter kaapi and local gossip. NKB is a local adda and they acknowledge this – so there is no rush to finish your “tiffin” and run out. Here, it is acceptable – indeed it is expected – to sit back and linger over your coffee.

The first time I was introduced to NKB (circa 1954), the introducer raved about the green masala idlis – ignore the startling green colour and tuck into these capsicum-spiced mini idlis. Indeed, one of the best things about NKB is the quirky boards everywhere listing their “specials” (also called “Unusuals” here). NKB serves yummy Karnataka specials like neer dosa and ragi dosa – and it is one of the few Bangalore places that has got its sambhar right (I like it the thick spicy Tamil way, okay?). Add to that the fact that the waiters here are friendly and actually smile at you – there is none of that attitude that MTR throws about liberally – and you can see why this is a winner.

A newer addition (I presume) is Gopika, the air-conditioned restaurant inside the building that serves North Indian and Chinese (yes!) food – avoid that and stick to traditional South Indian at NKB. You cannot go wrong here.

Breakfast in Bangalore – 1

Lingering over a hot dosa / upma + filter coffee breakfast is one of the simple pleasures of a Bangalore weekend morning. Not so much the lingering in some places but in general, there is an air of what’s-the-big-hurry on these occasions. This being the general air in Bangalore. Which suits me fine sometimes. Just sometimes. The problem is that the waiters in these places also have the same attitude – what’s the big hurry? Add to this the other major chip-on-shoulder that these guys in old Bangalore eating places carry, viz. be grateful for what and when I serve you, and sometimes it turns out to be a patience-testing meal. Think: India Coffee House. Grrrr.

Anyway… here, the first in a series on these wonderful ‘Bangalore Breakfast’ options.

I may as well start with the legend: MTR. High on the list of the aforementioned waiters-with-attitude Bangalore places. It’s a bit like being in the Tirupati temple (I am told, I have not been there) – there is always a huge crowd, people waiting have the same look of eager devotion on their faces and they are generally pushed around by the man in charge of the “here is where you sit” arrangements. defy him and you don’t get served any food – I kid you not. Add to this the fact that MTR always has only limited options at any meal – take it or leave it.

So strictly speaking, not a favourite favourite with me – I like the food there. What am I saying, I love their dosa. I respect the fact that it is an old Bangalore tradition – established in 1924. I like the way people head to MTR after their morning walk at Lalbagh to undo any good the exercise may have done, with a dosa soaked in ghee, followed by the special sweet of the morning. I like the way they serve their filter coffee (wonderful pick-me-up!) in silver glasses, with that warm froth on top. I like how large families come there for a together meal, any day of the week. I just don’t like the way they push me around – but then, you win some, you lose some.

And I am overjoyed by the existence of the new MTR on St. Mark’s Road – nicer seating, friendlier staff (well, they don’t actually snarl) and more choice of what you can actually eat.

Nostalgia

I know it has been a long time since I wrote anything here. After Ooty, I made a day trip to the Cauvery fishing camp at Bheemeshwari and then a three day visit to the Chalukya temples of North Karnataka – Badami, Aihole and Pattadakkal. So expect notes and pics from these trips soon.

For now, an image from the Kalamadhyam crafts fair at Chitra Kala Parishat…

Nostalgia is like a grammar lesson: you find the present tense, but the past perfect! ~Owens Lee Pomeroy

The road to Ooty

Almost as lovely as being in Ooty itself is the drive there from Bangalore. The route goes through the forests of Bandipur and Mudumalai and then briefly past Masinagudi before the climb up the Nilgiris.

Plastic is banned through most of this route – you tell me, is there a way to ban those morons who honk and shout and smoke through the beauty of it all, enough even to make the elephants turn back on their path?

And the final stretch up the hills, with its thirty six hair-pin curves and stunning views miles across the distance…

Next stop now – Bandipur and Masinagudi…

The rocks that smoke

I should rightly call this piece ‘how not to go to Hogenakkal falls’. For this is an account of a trip to Hogenakkal on a route that did not exist.

Early September, very early Sunday morning, mid-monsoon. Three cars, twelve people, three cameras. No food. No maps. And no idea of which direction to take to Hogenakkal falls. We all vaguely knew that it was somewhere on the Karnataka – Tamilnadu border. And so the twelve of us set off merrily on the Kanakpura road towards Hogenakkal, asked for directions soon after leaving Bangalore, got ourselves misdirected (not once but several times!) and ended up on the road that never was.

Brimming with optimism, we kept going, the levels of optimism not dipping even slightly as we drove and drove through a long and completely deserted road. At points, it was so tempting to turn back… but none of us was really sure of finding our way back to Bangalore either. And then of course, there is that silly obstinate streak in each of us that tells us to go on, even when we know it is best not to. And so, we went on. And on and on. For more than two hours, not coming across another living soul, or signboards.

Finally, we stumbled back upon civilization – small Tamilnadu town – food! and correct directions! Lunch over, we asked for directions at the dhaba and drove on, finally coming across the first signboard for Hogenakkal (48 km to the right) that we saw since we left Bangalore over six hours ago.

At Hogenakkal

Hogenakkal is not one single huge waterfall but a series of smaller falls, all in full flow at that time, thanks to the rains. The only way to actually get close to the falls is on coracles, small round boats capable of seating upto five people including the boatman. Heavy bargaining later, we seated ourselves on these coracles, which turned out to be surprisingly comfortable and sturdy.

The bargaining is an integral part of any trip to Hogenakkal, I learnt later. This is where the real action lies; a group of boatmen approach you as soon as you near the area of the waterfalls. The price they quote initially is so high that you are tempted to believe they are offering to sell you a coracle instead of taking you for a spin on it. The trick, as with all sound bargaining, is to start at a ridiculously low amount, and over the course of the next few minutes meet the demand of the boatman somewhere midway.

These coracles, known as parisal locally are used commonly across the Cauvery, Krishna and Tungabhadra rivers. The boats look flimsy but are extremely sturdy and the bottom is covered with a layer of buffalo hide to keep it waterproof. It is said that the design of these boats have remained unchanged for centuries, the only modern addition being a layer of plastic sometimes added at the bottom (instead of or along with the buffalo hide) to enhance the sturdiness.

The boatman took us close to the first of the huge falls, and I am told, in lean season, it is possible to go even further upstream, closer to the others. It is a wonderful feeling, the mist and the water drops against your face. It is not for nothing that the place is called Hogenakkal – meaning “smoking rocks” – the Cauvery that winds through rocks in this placid valley between two states falls from a height of 150 feet.

Due to the splitting-now and merging-now nature of Cauvery’s flow in this spot, Hogenakkal strictly is not a single fall but a series of waterfalls spread across a kilometer of rocky terrain.

And then turning back, we began to move downstream. In this part of the ride, the coracle moves through the calm waters, bounded by giant black granite rocks on either side. There is lots of activity on these waters, sometimes causing situations similar to traffic jams on urban roads. Kids, as small as 9 or 10, run nimbly to the top in front of your eyes and dive into the waters from the very top at a signal from you, all for a few rupees. Commerce thrives merrily even in the middle of the water with vendors selling packed snacks and cool drinks from their coracles – door delivery of a different kind! We pass tiny little caves, the black stone glistening as a result of hundreds of years of combined exposure to the harsh sunshine and cold waters.

At the very end is a placid stream where it is possible to swim and cool off in peace and isolation; the boat man left us there for an hour to swim. The water here is also said to have curative properties, perhaps due to the presence of minerals or the goodness of herbs it crosses path with on its flow – and massages are freely available at various points in Hogenakkal. Apart from the boating, massage seems to be an activity almost every local has taken to as a money-spinning option. It is an almost scary sight to see well-oiled men getting pounded and pummeled by the locals, all in the name of a massage. To each, his own, as they say.

After an hour of water sports (as defined by a bunch of lazy people who were content to soak in the sun while floating on the shallow water), we headed back to what is “mainland”. At the shore, there is a watch-tower of sorts, close to the first fall, from where it is possible to get a panoramic view of the falls on both sides. This is perhaps the most picturesque spot in the area, especially the view towards the side where the stream meanders on towards the hills in the distance, bounded by black rocky walls on either side. Tens of coracles glide on it silently, as we did just a couple of hours ago, now looking like little dots from where we stood. A mild drizzle had started and ended just as abruptly, and then as we turned to go, there it was, a grand rainbow across the waterfall right in front of our eyes. And suddenly, the heat and long directionless drive were forgotten, and I resolved to be back at Hogenakkal soon, this time with a road map in my hands!

***
A confession: this is a slightly shorter version of an article I wrote for Windows & Aisles, the inflight magazine of Paramount Airways a while ago. I have since made another trip to Hogenakkal falls from Bangalore, this time well researched and planned and I am glad to say we made it and back without any such experiences. The photographs are from the recent trip when the water levels at Hogenakkal were a summery low.

KR market: Bangalore markets series

Welcome to KR market, locally known also as city market… Named after the king Krishnarajendra Wodeyar, this is one of Bangalore’s oldest markets.

The highlight of the city market (for me, definitely) are the flower vendors – lording over the pinks and oranges and yellows, jasmine, marigold and kanakambaram, coils and coils of pure white. Activity in this part of the market starts well before dawn, and the area bustles with shoppers, both wholesale and retail. And by the time the sun rises and the day gets hot, these vendors are ready to wind up their day’s work.

In the flower market, this lady is a rock star… everyone I know who visits city market with a camera comes away with her picture. Except that I am told I got lucky – she actually favoured me with a smile!

Just along the flower sellers are the vegetable vendors, usually with creative small piles of their specialty vegetables…

Walk inside the market to see another side of trading – more nut and dried fruit vendors, sellers of fresh peas and broad beans, vendors of lemons by the dozens – and a row of shops with wholesale pooja items – intricate flower umbrellas, framed pictures and mountains of kumkum in brilliant colours…

And just down the road, on the other side are the flower sellers from whom the city florists buy their stuff – the daisies and roses and all the other pretty flowers that sell at five times they cost here…

Then there are the other professionals – like the parrot-card-fortune reader (kili josiyam in Tamil) and the knife sharpener. Not to mention the odd music band.

Head there early in the morning – read before 6 a.m to get the best experience of City Market.

View more photographs from City Market here…

Earlier in the market series: Gandhi Bazaar

A Lalbagh evening

Bangalore does not fascinate me the way Bombay does – in my first few months here, I rarely took my camera out. I am fast remedying that by visiting the local markets – Gandhi Bazaar and City Market (watch this space) ticked off so far. And last week, I headed to Lalbagh one evening lured by the promise of a windy evening in the park. Plus I wanted to take my new Canon 50 mm lens (ahem!) out for a walk. Lalbagh bore the unmistakable signs of summer – brown leaves, dry grounds and raw mango sellers.

It is times like these – blue skies, cool breeze, blooming gulmohar trees – that makes living in Bangalore worth it.

I love it about parks that people find them great places for that undisturbed afternoon siesta. I am told I caused a lot of merriment by clicking away at this sleeping figure – I do not like to think of the possibility that this man could have suddenly woken up and asked what I thought I was doing…

I saw these boards everywhere that irked me no end – what do you mean no playing in the park? Reminded me of this definition of puritanism by Henry Mencken – the haunting fear that someone, somewhere may be happy. I was happy to see kids flouting this senseless rule and having a great time just running around making a lot of noise in the open – football or no football.

And finally this – from another time, another season in the park…

Gandhi Bazaar: Bangalore markets series

There is no way to describe the colours and chaos of this market (yes, I know, how can anyone describe any Indian market?)

Here is the first part of (what I hope will be) a series on the markets of Bangalore on this blog – a walk through Gandhi Bazaar. In the heart of Basavangudi, Gandhi Bazaar stretches for a short kilometer or so, bordered on both sides by shops selling everything from saris and clothes to plastics and kitchen utensils, fronted by vegetable and fruit stalls.

First things first – and when in Gandhi Bazaar, that means breakfast at Vidyarthi Bhavan – khara bhath, crispy, dripping with oil (or is that ghee? oh, never mind) masala dosa followed by filter coffee and you will be tempted to agree that aal izz well with the world. I know many who call this the best dosa in Bangalore – I don’t know about that, but I can say that it is worth the wait and the agony of sharing the table with strangers (who are usually locals and look at you with disdain).

Friendly folk, ever ready to pose and smile (and what can a camera not do?), I had fun chatting with the vegetable and fruit vendors in Tamil.

The flower sellers are grouped together at one end of the market – doing brisk business of both loose flowers and garlands…

Then there is the occasional mobile pickle-seller… (door delivery of pickles – the thought of it makes my hyper-acidity act up!)

And finally, to keep the evil eye away…

Also read: this lovely post by Iyer Matter on Basavangudi and the charm of old Bangalore – another Bangalorophile pointed it out to me, thanks G!