Khadyayatra, Part Three

Part Three, in which the writer and his wise friend enjoy sweet treats, torture their stomachs further, and bring things to a hearty conclusion. (Refer to Jules Verne to find a better version of descriptions of this kind)

Act VIII: Sugar Rush

In Old Pune is a place called Tulsibaug which is a very important part of the lives of the middle-aged women of Pune (and also their female relatives from other towns). A homemaker in Tulsibaug is like a college student in Grahak Peth. (Good stuff is cheap, cheap stuff is good principal at work). Forget buying- just browsing through such a variety of wares is a very exciting afternoon.

Incidentally, there are also a number of establishments here that are famous for food. Sri Krishna, Indrayani Raswanti Gruha, Kalpana Dairy, and Kawre are the ones we saw (which my friend knew.)

Having visited our ‘main course’ restaurants, we now were going to indulge our sweet teeth.

We first went to Kalpana Dairy and had a glass of Lassi. Inspite of the variety, we took the “Vanilla” Lassi (actually the Elaichi. This is funny because vanilla refers to “the standard choice” in most contexts, but could mean the actual flavour here) Chilled, Sweet, Thick and Addictive. The reason I love yogurt, dahi, taak and lassi is these characteristics. I often daydream about a container of dahi-derivative which never becomes empty. I keep on taking large gulps of the liquid.. and it never stops.. MOVING ON

Considering the variety of Lassis available, I was considering another glass. But I had taxed my stomach already, and I intended to do the thing Byron Hadley says about taxation in the “Shawshank Redemption” (to my stomach, of course). So I gave it (another glass of Lassi) a pass, vowing to return.

Act IX: A Pleasant Interlude

Without a glance at the wares sold at low-low prices in Tulsi Baug, we went to the Rama temple there. Inside, a priest was conducting a Pravachan. Pravachans are Depth-First-Searches of religious material. You start from a main text like the Mahabharata. Then, when you encounter a keyword, (say Vyavahar) you start a pravachan about that. This goes on for a while, going deeper if you find another (Patni, in this case). Finally, when there is a dead end, you return to the previous node. At this pace, the Mahabharata, already huge, will take aeons to complete.

I did poke fun at the pravachan. But what the guy said did make sense, and his tone made me feel calm. The Mandir’s atmosphere was serene, and the temperature cool. An island of tranquility in the chaotic Tulsibaug sea.

Act X: The Hardcore Softy

Once I saw a packet of liquid softy-stuff outside a mall. Apparently, softies are made by processing this liquid in a machine. Since then, I held softies in low regard. Until the day I ate one at Kawre.

I was skeptical about my friend’s decision of having softies instead of ice-cream at Kawre. But the very first bite (bite, mind you, not lick. That’s the correct way to eat any frozen dessert) changed my opinion. Creamy, cold with a fairly natural taste. I liked it. This was a real (read: Hardcore) softy.

Kawre incidentally is the closest thing Pune has to ice-cream parlors I have read about and marvelled at on wikipedia. An old establishment, it serves candies, faloodas, sundaes and even an ice-cream soda (named “Volcano”)

Ice cream at Kawre is not rich like Kondhalkar or Naturals, but is presented beautifully, and there is extreme variety in dishes.

Happily consuming our softies, we made our way through the bylanes of old pune, to my friend’s house in Appa Balwant Chowk (ABC).

Intermezzo

Watched Match

India faked a batting collapse, then used it’s cheat-code bowling attack to destroy Afghanistan. We again hit the street, to further please our tongues, much to the chagrin of our stomachs.

Act XI: Climax

We collected an oily pav-patties as parcel. Wrapped with onion slices in a newspaper (which was soaked by the time we opened it). I first tasted Pav Patties at Bipin’s in front of Garware College, and absolutely loved it. Bread when fried soaks up a large amount of oil (much to my delight, and my family’s horror).

On the way back, we gave a helping hand to our stomachs by downing an extremely strong and spicy mint soda.

At home, we polished off the patties, and sat down to watch the match against Afghanistan.

We had made plans for going to Cafe Goodluck and Durga later, but sensibly did not proceed with them.

I once read an anecdote in Bryson’s “The Lost Continent”, where he describes an evening of gluttony at an all-you-can-eat restaurant, followed by further stomach-stuffing at night at a highway submarine sandwich shop. That is something I aim to do one day. (Accompanied by proper exercise, of course)

On that day, I had one well-prepared, tasty dish after another. I think I came pretty close.

However, Pune’s culinary landscape (I talk about good dishes, not expensive places which create an “atmosphere”) is huge, and we barely scratched it’s surface. Maybe one day, when my stomach can take it we will do a “Manachya Misali” tour.

This entire venture was only possible due to the person I have referred to as “my friend” in this trilogy. Special thanks to Soham Joshi for his Knowledge and Enthusiasm. The list was yours, and I loved it.