Culinary exploration in Mylapore

I had heard so much about the great traditional messes of Mylapore that were supposed to serve the yummiest South Indian Tiffin, I decided to go exploring. So last Sunday, I made my way to Mylapore. I reached there at about 8.00 am, parked my bike in the parking space in front of the temple entrance, and made my way into the temple. After all, i havent been inside one in quite some time. Might as well visit this ancient, historically significant, beautifully carved monument while I am at its doorstep. I was glad to find the temple was not crowded, and I  quickly finished my darshan and set out exploring.

The most famous mess I had heard of was the Maami mess. This is what I sought. Someone, somewhere, a long time ago had told me that it was on the same street as the temple main gate. I exited the temple, took back my shoes, and set out due right. There were houses, a gas stove repair “agency”, and some other shops. Nothing looking like a mess. Then, I saw a group of people standing in front of an ancient wall with a single open window and eating out of plastic plates. This was an eatery, surely, but not the one I was looking for. I’ll come back to this one. I walked some more, saw nothing, and decided to ask someone. A shopkeeper gave me directions, to one of the bylanes off the main road, but told me the mess was closed on sunday. An eatery being closed on sunday struck me as the height of audacity. But I did go the said loacation, and sure enough there was a backlit board sponsored by Coke saying this was the place. And it was indeed closed. And one of the local residents confirmed that they are indeed closed every sunday! I’m sure this will make an interesting case study on how to build brand, reputation, and stay solvent by keeping your hotel closed on the one day of the week that all eateries do maximum business.

Now, back to the window in the wall. (pic above) I went up to the window and peeped inside. The window had standard, old world vertical iron bars in a wooden cross frame. The bars from the lower end had been removed. It was very dark in the room that lay behind the window, and the huge man that sat on the other side blocked anylight that would otherwise make its way in.

“All over saar, poori masala only. He he he. Sunday saar” he said. The size of the man, his overall shape and his jolly demeanour seemed to embody the spirit of the Laughin Buddha.

“Okay. Poori masala” I said. When I had walked past earlier, a his customers were eating idli and dosa. Now, I was left with Hobson’s choice. He boomed something to someone inside the dark room, and in a few moments, a plastic plate with a grease paper as lining, three pooris and the standard dry potato curry masala appparated on the window sill. I craned my neck to take a better look inside, and saw there were atleast three other men inside, and huge stainless steel vessels. From what i gathered, they made the food elsewhere and brought it here for sale. The poori masala was good, and cost only Rs 21. There was a vessel with chutney for the idlis and dosas. I tasted some, and it was good. Another man walked up, asked what was available, and was given the same Hobson’s choice. He said okay, and wanted only two pooris. “Illa Saar, three pooris. Minimum three pooris only saar.” replied the large man behind the window. Now that he was at the end of his business day, maybe he did not want to upset some carefully done calculations as to how many pooris he could sell. He would not give less that three, but you could always ask for four (Rs 28). A glass of water was kept ready at the window, and dumped the paper lining into the blue bin and washed my hands, letting the water drip into it. By the time i had finished, he had served one more customer, and turned away another, saying it was all over. I came back to take this photo later. A better camera than that on my phone, and i think i have a prize winner in a photography contest.

 

I did another round of the area, looking for someplace to eat some more. And sure enough, there was Mylai Sree Karpagambal Mess, appropriately named after godess Karpagam, an avtaar of Parvati. This one was on East Mada Street, almost opposite the Bhavan’s auditorium. It looked like the interiors had gotten a fresh coat of paint, contemporary furniture, and good lighting. There was also an AC room, and the menu board listed the AC and non AC rates for every dish. But if the man sitting at the counter was anything to go by, plus framed b/w photos of some people with small bulbs underneath them, this place was two hundred years old. I asked for Idli, and the waiter said the new batch would take ten minutes. So I settled for dosa, vada and filter coffee. The food was delicious, and the filter coffee was at it should be. This was tiffin heaven. There were multi containers with chutneys, and sambar, and each was really good. And it cost me just Rs 70. The ancient man at the counter took the payment. I tried to have a conversation with him, but the ol boy was having trouble with his hearing. And thus, fortified with three pooris, he he, dosa, vada and good filter coffee, i set out to face the day.

Mylai Sree Karpagambal Mess