Khadyayatra, Part One
Here I have written a highly exaggerated account a Khadyayatra or ‘Food Trip’ I undertook in my vacation If you are able to tolerate my childish humour (or even enjoy it), great! Others can still enjoy the enticing photographs
Prologue:
Old Pune (called Pune Gaon) which consists of the Peths, Tilak Road, Laximi Road and Bajirao road is filled with eating joints each famous for a particular dish. A few months back, while visiting a friend, he and his father had described these dishes to me lovingly, in great detail. I had heard about the glory of Pune’s food, and had been thinking of doing a ‘food walk’ for a long time.
The premise was simple. Go to Old Pune. Walk around randomly. Enter each well known of crowded food joint you see there while walking, and eat the most famous dish served at the joint. Repeat till: a) The shops close or b) The stomach starts sending obvious signals telling you to stop.
The problem with this plan was that Old Pune was a labyrinth to me. No less than three times have I tried to go from JM road to my orthodontist’s place at Tilak road, and every time I got lost in a different way. Old Pune is a labyrinth to us Kothrud upstarts. 2-3 turns in those lanes filled with Banyan Tree chowks and railing-lined footpaths and you completely lose your sense of direction. Then, when you ask some random tobacco-chewing rickshawalla, he says something like ‘Go straight, straight. After the Talim take a right. Then go up and turn 360 degrees (I faked the 360 degree part). That is a one way, so sneak in if there are no police-mamas. At some point, you decide that it would be better if you ask someone at the next junction. So you queitly nod your head as if you have understood, and move away.
This is insanely complex when compared to my area, where there are only two directions- ‘Towards Deccan’ and ‘Towards Kothrud Depot’.
Even if I knew the names of the places to hit, I wouldn’t be able to find them even if every chowk had a sign saying ‘Sri Krishna that way’
I was indeed fortunate, therefore that we were having this discussion (remember, the narrator is right now at his friend’s house). My friend, too liked the idea. We decided to do the food walk.
Now this particular friend was preparing for the JEE. This means that he studies 30 hours a day, and uses the remaining 18 to relax, recuperate and keep himself in peak condition. Considering this little complication, it was not surprising that we postponed the plan twice. JEE Aspirants’ Sundays are made of weekly tests and extra classes. (if they are held regularly, why bother calling them extra?)
Days passed. Months passed. The summer ended and light, tumbling showers began to hit the half-constructed Pune Metro pillars, reminding us of the 20 forthcoming years of traffic.
Then, one fine Saturday evening, we finally hit the streets.
Act I: The Pride of FC Road
Our trip started in a typical Puneri fashion, with SPDP at Vaishali. Famously called ‘V’ this establishment has been the pride of Pune for the last 60 years. Now, there is an interesting thing about SPDP. It is an acronym for Shev Batata Dahi Puri. (NOT Sev Potato Dahi Puri). SPDP is exatly what it’s name implies. Yet this mundane dish at Vaishali seems special. In fact, there is something about V. (besides it’s great food quality, ambience and location) that makes you come again and again. Whether it is for Sunday Breakfast with friends of a quick one (I refer to coffee, of course. Ethyl Alcohol is frowned upon) in the evening, V is the place to go (because it is the place to go for everyone, it will, unfortunately be crowded)
V might not be in Old Pune, but it is 60 years old. This definitely gets it a place on the list.
Act II: Edible Cream Rolls
At any roadside shop that sells ‘cutting’ chai (and unfortunately, ‘‘loose change’’ too), in a grubby jar lie some ancient, inedible cream rolls. Nothing about them is appetizing- the chitinous exoskeleton, the bland oshat white paste inside, or the fear of passive smoking.
But on Apte road is a fine establishment called Santosh Bakery (Whose signboard, if you take a look at it boldly claims that it sells ‘Bakery Products’. I have no Idea why they chose to sell bakery products in a bakery, which is not related to them at all.)
Now during my days at Fergusson College, I had eaten Patties, biscuits and cakes at Santosh, and quite liked them. But on that fateful day, my friend suggested that we have a cream roll. I failed to understand why this JEE athlete was burdening his stomach with this poisonous substance. But I played along. And absolutely loved it. It was, in fact not poisonous.
Actually, it was stuff advertisements are made of- crisp on the outside, soft and gooey on the inside. (Also, it was huge). It made me feel like I was in one of those Enid Blyton books- the ones filled with children whose holidays always involve contact with criminals, with their parents being totally fine about it. The reason behind this was probably the fact that their meals are sumptuous (and beautifully-described) even in times of great peril. Blyton has had (the poor chap’s dead now) a knack for describing food that made me love his books.
PS: I know Enid Blyton was a woman. I was unable to figure it out during my school years. Finally, I checked wikipedia.
I never understood what macaroons meant when I read about them in Blyton’s books. All I know was that they were wonderful. At that moment, I decided that Santosh’s cream rolls were, in fact Macaroons.
Act III: Batata Wada and Downpour
It was time to enter the maze. I told my friend that I wanted to understand the maze, it’s turns and tricks and traps.
And so we went, him expertly guiding me, and casually tellling me names like ‘Narayan Peth Police Chowk’, and mentioning shops that had almost made it to our list. (Technically, his list, he had made it. I was inexperienced in these matters)
It was 5:30 or so, and we realized we were on the clock. A few of the fine establishments we were going to patronize that day had a feature in common- they closed at 7- either due to their inherant puneri-ness of when they ran out of ingredients. What this means is they actually use fresh ingredients (or are Puneri, which is as good). Considering this, we (he)plottd an optimum course which would allow us to maximise our plaisir de manger.
Accordingly, we first went to Prabha Vishranti Gruha to exercise our taste buds. This is another characteristic of Pune eateries- they never call themselves restaurants. Instead they have fancy names like Bhuvan Vishranti Gruha, etc. Ice cream shops call themselves Kawre Colddrinks. At Prabha, we had Batata Wada. It’ taste was novel- spicy and sour with sweet in the background. Again, it’s size was double that of normal wadas. Prabha also serves other quintessential delicacies- Misal, Sabudana Wada, and Kakdi-Khichadi.
One thing I noticed about Prabha was, for a place that has 10 dishes on the menu, it was remarkably clean and well managed.
As we were eating our wada, it started raining- as if on cue. We stood at the door, waiting for the rain to stop, the owner expressed hes disappointment about us eating a single wada. We expained our mission, upon which he seemed convinced.
After waiting for some time, we thought, ‘to hell with it’ and boldly drove into the rain without waterproof clothing. As I said, we were on the clock, and had a magnificent Bhel to eat. (as it, in future. not ate a bhel there)