Those who have migrated out of Bangalore will eternally argue about the merits of the benne dosa as served in Vidyarthi Bhavan over those served at Central Tiffin Room. Others will slurp with nostalgia when speaking about the idli their father got for them from Veena Stores.
Whatever the debate, at least one thing is certain: those lucky to have eaten in such temples as Brahmins Tiffin Room or Central Tiffin Room know what a good idli is—or for that matter, a dosa, whether plain or masala.
Ratna Rao Shekar, editor of Housecalls, the “longest running magazine for doctors“—and “a connoisseur of the idli just as some are of wine and caviar”—in her quest for the perfect idli and dosa finds her way to Bangalore’s old eateries where idli and dosa have their own geography, chemistry and mathematics.
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By RATNA RAO SHEKAR
Just as we are eternally looking for that approximation of our first love—that girl in pigtails on the bus, or the boy with long eyelashes who sat in the back bench of the class but shone radiantly like a sharp ray of the sun—we, it turns out, will for the rest of our lives be looking for that perfect dosa or idli that we ate when we were children in a small street in Malleswaram or Gandhi Bazaar in Bangalore.
Since this is oftentimes only an ideal, like first love which is more imagination than reality, every idli that you eat later falls short of expectation. Either the idlis are like rocks that could be flung at an enemy, or the dosas are more like the ‘choppaties’ of the north, chewy and rubbery.
After a recent eating binge in Bangalore accompanied by those who know about these things, old-time friends who have grown up and aged in these parts, I am now convinced that the best idli and dosa can be had in the Silicon City. And the surprising thing is that this can be done at no great cost.
At Rs 6 an idli and Rs 20 a dosa, you do feel they would at least save on the paper on which such bills are scribbled.
I would like to call these places restaurants, but restaurants require certain standards to deserve their qualification. Some of the eateries like the old Central Tiffin Room (CTR), now called Sri Sagar, in 7th Cross of Margosa Road in Malleswaram are so dark and dingy that you need a torch to see where you are going.
Vidyarthi Bhavan in Gandhi Bazaar has scaled its lighting in its efforts to modernize, but to bright tubelights. At 6.30 in the morning, when the first acolytes are arranging themselves on the narrow benches in anticipation of that dosa that is to die for, that light is rather harsh on the soul. Even if the dosa and potato sagu is heaven on the tongue.
The seating has simple wooden tables and chairs with marble or formica tops and there is no maître here to usher you to your tables. AT CTR and Vidyarthi, it’s best you make your way to a table as fast as you can, or you will be standing until eternity watching all those dosas flurrying past you.
In fact, courtesies of any kind are to be dispensed with in these places.
At CTR, for instance, we stood near the cashier—who sat with an array of gods in the background and a simple cash book in front of him—and kept a hawk’s eye on those on the verge of finishing their dosa or puri and sagu so we could swoop in on the table even before they finished paying the bill.
Worse, in these eateries that seat no more than 50 people at a go, there are no such things as exclusive tables for a group or family. We were eating our dosa and rava idli silently (there is no room here to conduct conversations on current topics of interest such as terrorist attacks or rising prices) when the head of a family seated his oldest child next to us, while he sidled to an adjacent table loudly ordering a plate of dosa for his daughter and piping hot coffee for himself.
In Vidyarthi Bhavan we were lucky to find a table quickly, and waited anxiously for our dosa. Since the bill of fare itself is just dosa (plain and masala), vada, khara and kesari bhath, coffee and tea, the waiter does not even need to repeat your order after taking it down. He knows that most people come to Vidyarthi for the dosas.
It is practically understood that you have arrived here at this early hour (we were there at 7 a.m.) for the Vidyarthi dosa. And the dosa arrives, after a good 15 minutes, not only for us but for a whole lot of others around us who are salivating by this time.
The waiter, a veshti-clad gentleman who comes with a stack of dosas neatly balancing himself and the plates, flings a dosa each on our plates and on those of others sitting at tables around. The accompaniment is just a liquidy yellow-dal chutney that flows across the plate and submerges the dosa.
The dosa is crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, the potato sagu unobtrusive on the tongue without too much of chillies or garlic. And it is made with ghee (or benne, as Kannadigas call it), not Saffola or any other oil that heart doctors recommend!
I was waiting for sambar as in other restaurants, when my companions, having already eaten half their dosa, urged me to start eating without further delay, as sambar was an alien concept at Vidyarthi and an import from neigbouring Tamil Nadu (with whom they were currently at war over language, water and other issues).
Vidyarthi, as its name suggests was started to cater to students in 1943 by two brothers Venkaramana and Parameshwara Ural from Udupi. In the 1970s it was taken over by Ramakrishna Adiga whose son Arun Kumar now oversees operations.
The who’s who of the country have eaten here, from scientist Sir M. Visvesvaraya, actor Raj Kumar, playwright Girish Karnad to cricket’s leg-spinner B.S. Chandrashekar. It is said that filmmaker Mahesh Bhatt was so impressed with the eatery that he made a two-minute documentary for BBC on the dingy hall called Vidyarthi where at one time, when short of space, they would seat you in the kitchen itself!
How many dosas in a day do you serve, we ask the cashier.He tells us reluctantly (these are matters of some secrecy) that he serves around 1,000 dosas in a day on weekdays, and on weekends it goes up to at least 2,000.
In fact, when I arrived here on a Sunday I was literally told to go home as it was already 12 noon, and didn’t I know that Vidyarthi closes at 12 on weekends (and in fact by 11 on weekdays)? No, I did not, though many others who looked suspiciously like Kannadigas from Santa Clara and Palo Alto seemed to know both timings and the menu, from the satisfied look on their faces at having consumed their Sunday’s worth of dosa and coffee.
The interesting thing about these eateries is their timing, which can even put the precise Germans to shame. They open without fail by 6.30 or 7 in the morning, and by 11 or 12 are ready to go home.
S. Pradeep of Veena Stores on Margosa Road in Malleswaram wants to offer us something when we arrive at 11.30, but is unable to give us anything we ask for, whether idli or mere coffee, as everything has been sold out like tickets of a Karan Johar film. He does finally give us coffee, but says with an apology that it’s only Bru instant.
“Come tomorrow in the morning,” he says, sad that he could not offer any of the items from his famous store that has men in Malleswaram rushing here in the mornings to fill their steel tiffin carriers with idlis and chutney.
Fine dining as such may be a newer concept that really took off in Bangalore after it turned IT and hi-tech. For years, 43 years and eight months to be precise, as Radhakrishna Adiga of Brahmins’ will have us know, students and working people have stood at a street corner in Shankarpuram in Basavangudi just for their idlis.
In a recent survey conducted by a local newspaper, Brahmins’ idli was voted the best in town. Let me tell you—and I am a connoisseur of the idli just as some are of wine and caviar—Brahmins’ idlis, that are neither too hard nor too soft, but just right as in the Goldilocks story, are the best in the world.
As I have just one idli that Radhakrishna gives me for ‘swalpa’ taste, I think, if there are perfect moments, this must be one of them, as when Ustad Bismillah Khan touches the high notes with his shehnai. But I won’t let the moment be, and try instead in my wily way to ferret the recipe out of Radhakrishna.
“The idlis are still made at home under the supervision of my mother,” explains Radhakrishna, firmly refusing to let go of any family recipe.
Brahmins’ Coffee Bar is a small eatery that started out as a bakery serving biscuits and condiments. Here you have to first take a token, and then go in for the idli or khara or kesari bhath. Since you cannot be expected to go in again for another round of chutney, a kindly gentleman standing at the threshold of the eatery serves (or should we say, pours) chutney when you want that extra helping. And everything is so hygienic that my friend Ravi, who has lived in these parts since he was a child, remembers consuming these idlis even when he had typhoid. “These idlis are made so hygienically that they even beat those made at home,” he insists.
The Adigas hail from a village near Udupi where most of the Kannadiga food and restaurateurs originate. Radhakrishna says with some pride that his family (which now runs the equally popular Adiga restaurants across Bangalore) was the first to bring such food served on the footpaths (literally) to Bangalore.
‘Eat and go’ seems to be the motto of these restaurants which offer no place to sit and enjoy your khara bhath or coffee. French wayside cafés may all be rage elsewhere, but here at Brahmins’ it is all about having your one or two idlis with vada (again no sign of any sambar) and moving on to the Basavangudi temple, or nowadays to your IT job at Wipro or TCS.
Whether it is Brahmins’ or Vidyarthi or even Veena Stores in Malleswaram, all of them started off three and four decades ago to cater to the always-in-a-hurry office and student population.
“Yes, we do have a lot of students from MES College,” says Pradeep, owner of Veena Stores that started off as a bakery almost 31 years ago. His father started the eatery but has since retired, and though Pradeep is academically qualified he decided to chip in and help run the eatery.
When you ask him management questions such as what about expansion plans, or innovative ideas like why not take over an old quaint house in Malleswaram and expand business, his answer is a definite no. He says, like Radhakrishna, that they want to continue with the tradition of having people come for their food and nothing more.
It’s true that (at Brahmins’) from a mere eleven paise the idlis have gone upto to Rs 6 for a single idli and Rs 11 for a double idli, but for the rest they will remain what they were. “After all the old timers come for what they ate many years ago,” says Pradeep. He seems to say that in a world full of novelties what you finally want is your idli from Veena Stores and your dosa from Vidyarthi, just as they were made when you were eleven years old. Consistency in quality is what they offer.
One eatery that did introduce plate meals was the Janata in the popular 8th Cross in Malleswaram, but they have since abandoned the idea as they realized most people came here only for tiffin. The eatery that has expanded somewhat was started by two brothers from Kundapur in Udupi to cater largely to the Malleswaram mamas and mamis who come here shopping for flowers and vegetables and appalams during the late afternoons.
As the names themselves suggest, whether it is CTR or Vidyarthi Bhavan, most of them stay with the tiffins, which comprises mostly idli, vada, dosa, and that favourite of the Kannadiga, the kesari bhath, whose add-ons include not just saffron but pineapple! Afternoon tiffins, however, include bajjis and rava idli.
Apart from small changes in prices, nothing has changed in these tiffin rooms. They still serve food in banana leaves, or a steel plate at the most. Coffee is served in a steel tumbler and you are welcome to split with a friend. ‘By-two coffees’, these were called. There is always a washbasin and you are requested not to wash your hands on the plate.
An old newspaper, Praja Vani or Deccan Herald, is torn neatly and given in place of a paper napkin. As for the attitude, it is still haughty—the dosa or idli is brought to you with the take-it-or-leave-it look. In most cases, the dosas and idlis are so good, you take it, eat it, and leave.
Even if love is a thing of imagination, at least the perfect idli and dosa is not!
Photograph: A waiter brings up your order and others around you at Vidyarthi Bhavan in Gandhi Bazaar, Bangalore (courtesy Dr M. Vivek/ Housecalls)
Also read: Zen and the art of eating the (Mysore) masala dosa
Once upon a time in Bangalore, on route no. 11
Paper dosa, rava dosa, onion dosa, Mysore…
MDIWEEK MASALA: The paper dosa and the vada
External reading: Khaleej Times on the modern mud house of Hyderabad
to add to this the current owner of VB Arun is a highly qualified man with an engineering degree and probably MBA behind him . He quit his lucrative job in a major Indian telecom company as a successful manager only to look after the restaurant and keep the yummy dosa tradition alive ……….
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I often wonder about hallowed nostalgic image these eateries have established with some Bangaloreans (especially non-resident Bangaloreans now residing in some far away place)
Food may be good, but is it worth suffering unhygienic environment, impatient crowd, arrogant owners and staff, in the face attitude of these eateries?
“Take it or leave it” policy may have worked in the by gone era and may still work with long distance nostalgic NRI Bangaloreans stuck in 1970s and 80s, but let us be honest – there are hundreds of clean darshinis today in Bangalore which beat these eateries hands down – both in taste and price.
Having experienced one of my worst dining experience in another holy grail of Bangalore restaurants – MTR – I am convinced that only people with perverse sense of taste can love these restaurants.
Contrary to “clean” image this article portrays, these hole in the wall restaurants openly violate all basic norms established by Health department (and some even may not have proper license – considering license is for a “store” and not “restaurant”) and all in all have very unhygienic environment. Since many of our stuck in 70s-80s politicians still entertain these places, owners of these places name drop to escape from any scrutiny by corporation / public health authorities.
Sorry to be so negative, but someone ought to say emperor has no clothes?
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Yellappa nimage kopa yaakaappa? As you have expressed your ire they have the liberty to project _ not for advertising _ what they felt like projecting. Tastes differ.
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Vidyarthi Bhavan dosas do not appeal to me becasue they are very thick and too oily/gheed
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One of my most cherisehed memory of bangalore is its food.
Any idea, whether any company from Karnataka started selling their food in instant mix format so it can be tasted outside the state?
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both these restaurants Vidyarthi Bhavan and CTR of malleswaram, have retained their old world charm. vidyarthi bhavan dosa’s are the best like the dosas of mysore raju hotel (iyer’s lunch home). people have been eating without complaining since a long time. and they still do very good business. if you wish all of the niceties you are looking for you should go to MacDonalds or KFC or some sanitized Five star hotel. stop nitpicking.
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A vidyarthi bhavan dose nowadays contains a litre of oil. not my thing.. the best dose i think lies only a liitle further .. at Upahara Darshini at netkallappa circle. And also bangalore’s best coffee…
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To day there is a report in the Hindu magazine section that the India kappee house on the MG road is being shut down. I remember two places ion this road the Coffee house and the Lake view hotel. We used to alternate between these places after a hard days work for our coffee and ice cream before we went home on our bicycle. The aroma is still nostalgic. Hope they leave a board there, that the coffee house existed there.
What is this being replaced with, a PUB??
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There were two common things about the Vidyarti bavan, Gandhi bazar and Galli hotel in Mysore. The galla where they used to collect money mostly coins was worn out and there used to be a mark about 1-2 mm depth as they pushed the coin onside the drawer. On Sunday and evenings there used to be a ‘Q’ outside.
But Vidyarti bhavan was famous for Sada bennai dosai and Masal dosi, where as Galli hotel was famous for their Set dosai only!! The former used to serve their dosai with a bit of Deccan herald paper to wipe the hand as this was not needed in galli hotel.
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some quotes:
“Nostalgia is like a grammar lesson: You find the present tense and the past perfect”
“Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be!”
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dharma:
The coffee house is shutting down after a court battle. It has not been decided yet what will come up in its place.
It is sad that the coffee house is going away, and I will miss it, as will several others.
But the fact is that it is going. Does it matter to you if it is replaced by a “PUB”, or anything else?
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The least that anybody who mentions my land can do is to say “dose,” not “dosa.”
Our eateries are much more reassuring these days. In most cases, before entering one, I don’t have to ruin my taste beforehand by thinking about the possibility of contracting hepatitis B. However, the sad thing is that dose camps and other roadside eating places are reappearing after a short ban. Well, I guess those health inspectors have to make a living, too.
This is unrelated. I remember Chandrashekhara Patil called Ananthamurthy a “masaale dose saahithi” a couple of years ago, and the latter elegantly replied that he did not consume the said eat because he was diabetic.
By the way, not “vada”–sounds like Tamil for “baaro”–but “wade.” Nobody orders “vada and dosa” in Kannada “hotels.” At least, those items are not on the menu.
“Ghee” is “thuppa and “benne” is butter. Poor Kannadigas, can’t they at least keep their names for their thindis? I cannot even imagine “Daavanagere bennai dosa,” any more than an Iyengar establishment serving “huLianna” instead of “puliyogare.” I am glad our aapadbaanhdava “uppittu” has held its own against “upmaw.”
Let’s celebrate the Adigas for their “adige,” even as we think of Aravind cooking up a new brand of fiction that has earned him the title, “raashtradrohi.”
Dharma–
What I remember about India Coffee House and Lakeview are the dirty uniforms worn by the bearers.
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I was wrong about Aravind’s cooking. It is not a new brand of fiction, but a delicious kalasumelogara of a whole bunch of dishes and spices. Typical Udupi daring.
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pulkeshraayre,
bhaaL byaasara aakethada. when i see namm mandi unable to be comfortable with their own experience.
omme, kaveri daaTi aakaDe hogidde. conductor-ige- ‘renDu meTT ooru’ ande. conductor alle sen-tamizh lecture koDoda?!!! adu meTT ooru illai- maeTooru antha bhashana bigida.
seat sigde, standing bere. sari yaavdo ondu koDappa ande.
naav noDidra nammoor dvashi-na dvashi annokk anj thivi.
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killer stuff churumuri.
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Pulikeshi, I always thought Dosa is for ‘Single Dosa’ and Dose is plural for it!!
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I too have visited vidyarthi bhavan once, in 80s, with my wife and son shankar, who was jsut 4 years old. I was not impressed much about the quality of food and the envirnoment. The hotel is always crowdy and we have to wait a long to get our food. Incidentally, I have tasted MTR and Halli Mane food, which is tastier than vidyarthi bhavan. Janatha Hote in Malleswaram is far better than vidyarthi bhavan. It is only old glory, but the quality is not maintained.l
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Yellappa – MTR is definetly not unclean. They were pioneers in Bangalore for creating a hygenic eating place. It continues even now. Their trademark ravey idly and badami ice cream is loved by even the youngsters. They have also come up with a new branch Mayyas for the first time in BTM layout. This has better darshini kind of interiors.
However we cannot claim the same thing about Vidhyarthi Bhavan. Apart from the high cholestrol Dosa – VB is quite unhygenic. New Modern Hotel (NMH) in VV purum serves a low cholestrol but little bit less tasty Dosey.
Some other pre-Darshini,Pre-Adigas and Pre-SLV food joints with their trademark unique fare –
Brahmins coffe bar in Shakarpuram. They are also very arrogant about thier timings. They do not want to expand and are content the way they are.
Mysore Mylari Hotel – Their Dosey belongs to a different genre altogether with five different kinds of pulses added to it.
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Is Galli Hotel, GTR?
Heard so…
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Mysore Mylari Hotel…..don’t remember the old one in Nazarbad…they opened a branch in Kuvempunagar and somehow it has not been able to retain its name…not many people are atracted by it. They opened another in Mysore_Bangalor Highway. May be their earlier services , quality etc cannot be seen now. Yes, Mysore Iyer (Raju ) Hotel set dose, Galli Hotel, IndraBhavan and Indra Cafe all have faded into ………..
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Regarding the old places which have followed traditional style…
Yes, there will be a few places which are over hyped. And some which are really upto their repute.
Among what I have tried…
1. MTR. Clearly my favourite. I go there many many times… I went there on 1Jan too. Its like a piligrimage :)
2. India coffee House(ICH) MG Road
IMHO, that place sucks… I cant bear the stench of toilets, once I enter that place. And food too is no where closer to any average place.
3. Mysore dasaprakash
Again, IMHO, best avoided. The quality of food is not at all, and the service(that is a superlative for them, lets not talk about it)
MTR scores in terms of service because, even if my daughter misses rasam because she is full, they serve you with the same affection as a family member and make sure you are satisfied.
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i am frickin tired of these articles
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Vidyarthi Bhavan dose is my favorite! Nothing beats it! Dad used to go there as a student.
I also like CTR in Malleshwara.
I don’t mind the crowd at all…and these places are pretty clean but without the sophistication though. I love it that way. Keeps the old world charm.
I’ll probably be booted for this…but I used to like Chalukya’s dose too!
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Just for those people who enjoy dosai’s at NMH, stop going there. NMH employees are seen picking up dead rats from the wet grinders and throwing them out in the morning before they start preparing dosai batter for the day, as per my friend who lives on the same street as NMH :)
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Subbu–
shivamoggi inda uttharada kadi iro mandi dvaasi andra neenu haange anbekilvo? Maisooru kadi iro jana dose andra naanu haanga annabeku. Nanage thalivalaga shooli sangathi ee article baredaakige ishtaadru thiLivu byaadva? Jathigi “appaLa” anno reethi nod yeppa. nam bhaasha myala namage akkare illa. aa bhoosanoora sivane nammanna kaapaadabeku.
Maitoor–aa jaage namma mettu+ooru antha aa huchchu khodi conductornige gotthilla anthaa chinthi maadoodu byaada. Neenu sariyaagi vaapas bandi thaane?
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Beautiful
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I am delighted that Palahalli refers to Malleshwara instead of calling it Malleshwaram. What can we do to get the monied denizens of Bengaluru East to stop polluting the name of “Halasooru” kere?
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Beautiful & Nostalgic!
Not too long ago I had jotted down my fav dose joints of bangalore.
http://baddayatoffice.blogspot.com/2008/12/dose-idly.html
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allrari haaag bardidiralla nodi nw ‘m very eager to visit vidyathi so that i can taste that dosa’s ….splllaaaaa…. ma mouth is watering……………..
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Overrated joints! Vidhyarthi Bhavan and Veena come to mind immediately. There are much better food joints in Bangalore today. Uphara Darshini, Taaza Thindi, Manayur Maiyyas comes to mind immediately.
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