M T R

Mavalli Tiffin Rooms as its name suggests is located in Mavalli, very close to Lalbagh. Lalbagh Botanical Gardens is one of the very famous landmarks of Bangalore comprising of about 200 acres of landscaped gardens and has four entry points. ‘Mavalli’ is the approximately 4-6 sq km area next to Lalbagh. MTR is on Lalbagh Road about one hundred meters from the Lalbagh main gate.

I can’t think of Lalbagh and MTR separately. I am sure  it is so for the hundreds of walkers who used to come to Lalbagh for their morning walk everyday and later crowded the footpath in front of MTR for the invigorating cup of coffee. Since the numbers were huge and the demand was only for coffee, it was served right on the steps and people enjoyed it standing and talking. I have not been there recently and do not know for sure if it is the same now. I think it is. Anyway, MTR and Lalbagh are always together in my mind and both jointly have entwined themselves firmly with my childhood. That being the case, I request you to kindly forgive some of my childhood memories creeping into this story of MTR.

To begin at the beginning, I understand that a hut with a thatched roof,  preparing and selling Idlis, was set up by the Maiya brothers on what is known as Lalbagh Fort Road, not far from the present MTR, in 1920. In a short while, it grew to become The Brahmin’s Coffee Club, popular for its idlisambhar and masala dosa and was housed in a bigger and better building. I vaguely remember reading about it in DVG’s book, “Smriti Chitragalu”. (Pictures Of Memory?) While reminiscing about eateries of that time, Sri DVG mentions this establishment and how, at a time when it was taboo for the orthodox brahmins to eat in a hotel, many youth, lured by the taste, would enter the hotel by stealth and consume their idlis and dosas. It seems one of the brothers, Sri Yagnanarayana Maiya was instrumental in making the hotel grow in popularity and status, and it was later named Mavalli Tiffin Rooms and shifted to its present location in 1960.

Cash Counter and the stairs leading to the restaurant

We visited MTR quite often during the period 1962 - 1972.  Our house was at a walking distance from Lalbagh and hence it was the preferred site for our Sunday outings with our father. We entered Lalbagh through the Southgate, climbed the hill, bought roasted ground nuts from the hawkers, sat on the hill eating groundnuts and straining our eyes to locate an air plane in the far away HAL air port. We climbed down on the opposite side of the hill to reach the deer enclosure, fed the leftover ground nuts to the animals which eagerly ate from our hands pushing their snouts through the metal netting, and walking through the glass house, reached the cages housing pigeons, parrots, guinea pigs and rabbits. We spent sometime there, walked under the huge rain trees close by collecting the fallen pods, (soaking and pounding which, we made a big mess in the house and one or two out of shape cricket balls) arrived at the statue of Chamaraja Wodeyar near the main gate, came out of Lalbagh and entered MTR. It was one smooth movement from entering the Lalbagh to ending up in MTR.

The anteroom where people waited for the tables to be free

MTR was a ground and first floor structure. The kitchen, storage and washing areas were on the ground floor of the building. The food was served on the first floor. As you entered, there were the cash counter and the stairs to the left and under the stairs was the refrigerator. The MTR’s famous (almost all their dishes were famous of course) fruit mixture was prepared right there. As one climbed the stairs, one could see the rows of clear glass containers being layered with finely chopped fresh fruits  and topped with MTR’s special ‘American’ ice cream. (As I have mentioned earlier, that was the time when every hotel prepared its own ice cream). The ensemble was then crowned with figs, cherry and grapes. It was too tempting a sight and only an extremely strong will and a look at the price of fruit mixture on the display board, prevented one from ordering it right away!

We occupied the table and placed the order. It was invariably Masaladosa and Gulabjamoon for me and my brother, and fruit mixture for the princess of our house, my sister. If he still had money to spare, which was rare, my father ordered a Kharabhat for himself and if not, just coffee. We never bothered to think why our father did not eat anything. I thought about it after I grew up and wondered why he took us there every other week even though he had to exert himself to afford that expense. It was only after I had my children that I experienced the joy of seeing one’s children relish what they were eating. And my son, thirty winters behind him, amply provides me with the pleasure, even now, if I take him to MTR!

Kharabhat with the MTR trademark tomato slice on the top. (The tomatoes of the size of a cricket ball or bigger. I have not seen them in the market these days. they were my father's favourite)

Every MTR preparation has its own fan group and for me it was and still is, Masaladosa and Gulaabjamun. And between the two the Gulaabjamun. This Gulabjamun is made of pure khova, fried golden and brought submerged in flavoured sugar syrup. I wonder how they keep it in shape till it reaches the table because, the moment you touch it with the spoon it disintegrates and once conveyed into the mouth just melts. Nowadays, however, I find the MTR Gulaab jaamun a bit too sweet for my taste but do order one even now. And my sister still insists on her fruit mixture but says some canned fruits have found their way into the container.  

Apart from the usual fare which is part of the menu in all hotels, MTR had its trademark sweet ‘Chandrahaara’ which was prepared only on Sundays. It was a fried maida preparation made using a secret recipe and served covered in thick sweetened cream. It was not as appealing to look at as the dosa or the jamoon but I remember having ordered it once sometime later in life and feeling that I should have tasted it much earlier. It was enjoyable!

MTR was supposed to have been the first hotel in Bangalore to have installed equipment to sterilize the plates, cups and utensils and had gone a notch up in maintaining cleanliness - the result of Sri Yagnanarayana Maiya’s visit to England. And they had made sure that every one of their guests witnessed the facility by arranging for the exit only through the kitchen and the back door!  The sight of the hissing dishwashers, whirring grinders, and huge mounds of colourful washed vegetables contrasting with the spotless white dhoti of the cooks was very impressive and the picture has ingrained itself firmly in my brain.

Sometime during my BDS course, probably when I was in second year, Indira Gandhi declared emergency. I remember seeing L K Adwani, Madhu Dandawate and other leaders imprisoned in the Central jail Bangalore, brought to GDC for treatment under police escort and me being so hopelessly ignorant about the outside world and thinking that they were smugglers arrested under COFEPOSA.

The Corporation commissioner of the city of Bangalore (I am raking my brain but unable to recollect his name) decided to create his own version of equality in the city and targeted the hotels for the purpose. Using the unbridled powers that he enjoyed, thanks to emergency, he fixed the price and quantity of each and every item and ordered that all hotels coming with in the jurisdiction of the corporation shall serve the food as prescribed. For example an Idli had to weigh 60 gm and had to be sold at 50ps per piece along with 20 gms of chutney. Masala dosas should be a minimum of  8 inches in diameter having 50 gms of stuffing and be sold at rs 1.40, a rice plate should consist of a minimum of so much of rice, two vegetables of quantity ....gms, two chappattis of diameter .... and so on and so forth. It made big news and people thought that it would be a treat! We visited about half a dozen hotels out of curiosity and found that all that was available on the menu in every one of them was a tasteless lump of boiled Rava called Kharabhat weighing exactly 160 gms, costing 80ps and 150ml of a brown liquid called coffee/tea costing 40ps and prepared by pouring boiling water again and again over the same coffee/tea powder!

MTR was the only hotel, as I heard, that retained their full menu and maintained the same quality but priced their food as prescribed by the commissioner! If I remember right they only discontinued their fruit mixture. you should have seen the crowd in front of MTR then!  After three failed attempts to enter MTR, we gave up and so, I do not have first hand information. MTR did this for nearly a month and then the hotel was shutdown completely.

After about two weeks time MTR started a grocery store in the adjoining place owned by them which sold cleaned rice and pulses along with all other material and they announced a free home delivery for orders of rs 200 and above. Since this saved us the trouble of pushing our monthly groceries home on my bicycle from chickpet, and saved my mother the tedious process of cleaning rice and pulses we bought our groceries there. I remember taking a small detour when I rode to the college on my bicycle to hand over our list at the store and the MTR van delivering the goods by evening. After sometime they started manufacturing and selling their famous Rava idli mix which was followed by  idli, dosa and Gulabjamun mixes.  In no time they had a thriving ready to eat food business along with the grocery store. The hotel remained shut. 

Once the emergency was lifted, or may be after the commissioner realised his folly and  took back his order, the restaurant re started, the grocery store closed and ready to eat  business got a boost. Many more items were added and marketing was expanded. I remember reading in the papers about MTR collaborating with some multinational multiplying the production and spread. Today I understand that their ready to eat food business is many times more than their restaurant business and the MTR group have to be thankful to the commissioner of Corporation of the city of Bangalore for forcing them into the business.

While these changes were happening, the Maiya family, which controlled the business, had also grown in numbers and new generations were at the helm. Success, fame and money  were followed by  bitterness and fight for bigger share of them amongst the multiple stakeholders of the family and in due course the restaurant and fast food business got separated. Later one of the cousins - making use of the 'Maiya' reputation - started the Maiya chain of hotels and opened branches in other locations in Bangalore. The flagship MTR had to keep up and today we have branches of MTR also in many places. I have eaten in one of their branches and the food is definitely comparable to what I remember eating at the original MTR. And Maiya's have turned out to be equally popular. 

Bangalore has grown beyond recognition, the population has multiplied - reaching infinity - and new players have taken over in every field.  For the new generations, MTR will be one amongst the many good hotels in the city. Few grey heads like me may still remember the MTR that was and the coffee being served in silver cups! I may not declare the MTR Masala dosa was THE best, (But that was the only hotel from which people are known to have had the masaIsdosas packed on their way to the airport and carried the parcel to Bombay!)  may not say that the MTR service was THE best ( it was, in fact, a bit snobbish) but I say that for a few decades or may be even half a century, MTR was certainly the king of hotels in Bangalore, known for best of everything in the business. No other hotel had the reputation and stature of MTR. To describe it in one word, It was - class!

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Watering At the Mouth - Writing about eateries of Bangalore.

I was born in Chamarajapet, probably the very first suburb of Bangalore of the yore. We shifted to Basavanagudi when I was three or four and after another two years, to our own house in Shantinagar, near Wilson Garden. The year 1962. Cost of the site of size 40*60 was Rs 800 and cost of construction Rs 12,000. My father took a loan and repaid it over the next eighteen years. This is just to give an indication of the economy of that period. My primary education was in Maruti Vidyalaya in Wilson garden.  None of my relatives who heard the name of my school could ever resist commenting “I think they have named the school, looking at the way you behave!”. Then I joined National High School and later GDC. Most of our friends and relatives were also around these places and hence the Bangalore that I am very familiar with is the one within a radius of say, five to six kilometers from GDC. Well, in fact that was almost the whole of Bangalore five decades back, if you excluded Malleshwaram and Ulsoor. Malleshwaram was not actually Bangalore. It was the first railway station after Bangalore city, towards Tumkur. And Ulsoor was cantonement area. Again not actually Bangalore. So were the present day hotspots MG road, Brigade road etc etc.  See, I am already on a tangent. I was supposed to write about hotels. Not history of Bangalore.

There were quite a few famous eateries in the Bangalore outlined above, but some of them have been legendary. Here I plan to restrict myself to the very famous MTR, Vidyarthi Bhavan, Udupi Krishna Bhavan, Raghavendra Bhavana and Rama Vilas Hotel. I will give a very short account of each before going over to MTR the king. 

Vidyarthi Bhavan, located in the center of Gandhi bazaar is supposed to have been named so because it catered mainly to students. That must have been before the sixties.  Because at the time I was in National High school/college  (which is the closest educational institution to VB) hardly any students went to VB. Their popular haunts were the Bakery at the corner where Vanivilas Road joins DVG road and “Bhattana Hotlu” (meaning Bhatta’s hotel) on DVG road.

Coming back to VB, the hotel used to be (and still is) a very congested one and there was no scope for leisurely sitting, chatting and eating. You got in, stood next to a table eagerly waiting for the occupant to finish his coffee and slid into his chair even before he was fully out of it. Then the cleaner would clean the table and in his zeal would push a stray onion bit or a piece of idli on to your shirt.You ignored that and waited patiently for your dosa to arrive. You ate your dosa, ordered another one if so inclined or asked for your coffee. Even before you imbibed the last drop the person standing next to you would be pushing you out and you obediently obliged, paid your bill at the counter and walked out. Since there was only one wash basin located next to the entrance, usually a piece of news paper was served along with your Dosa to save a trip to the tap and more importantly save table time! You just wiped your hand with the paper and hence you enjoyed the flavor of dosa for a long time on your hands! Till you got an opportunity to wash with soap and water. Many a  times the dosa smell remained even after that!  

I do not know If Dr Kumaraswamy of Oral surgery was a patron of VB.  I am sure most of us of the “Pre Gloves” era have experienced  the smell of clotted blood remaining on the hands for a very long time after doing a particularly difficult open method. When some one mentioned that the smell remained even after washing the hands with soap, Dr Kumaraswamy said “It is like the smell of Masala dosa I say, remains on your hand till evening!”. 

VB is pretty much the same even now though the seating has somewhat been modified and efforts are made to make the interiors more appealing. But the ‘Benne masale’ remains the same and that’s what pulls people in.

I have eaten quite a few dosas at the Janata Hotel which was Located next to United Dental building in  Sajjana Rao circle and many a times I have felt that their dosa was as good as Vidyarthi Bhavan and sometimes even better. But the diehard VB fans may not agree with me.

Since my father used to work with an electrical supplies dealer in Chickpet, we used to visit Chickpet for all our purchases be it groceries, books, clothes or footwear. And at the end we invariably ended up in Udupi Krishna Bhavan in Balepet or Bombay Ananda Bhavan in Chickpet. While UKB was a halt for Masala dosa or Uddina wada, BAB was for ice cream. I am talking about the era when the Joy and Kwality ice creams (The very first packed ice cream brands to enter the city) were yet to enter Bangalore.  My father could ill afford this extravaganza but our visits to Chickpet never ended without a dosa and gulab Jamun or ice cream. 

I understand UKB, apart from its Masala dosa was very famous for its cleanliness  and has won the 'cleanest hotel' title from the Bangalore city corporation, many times.

Very close to UKB is the Venkateshwara Sweet Meats, most famous for their Mysore Pak. It is unique and is worth ignoring the cholesterol levels, calorie count and doctor’s orders to enjoy it once in a way!

Raghavendra Bhavan was located in one of the dustiest and dirtiest places of Bangalore - behind K R Market in Gundopant street.  It was reasonably clean inside and the ritual of a server standing next to you and reciting the menu was never there. You occupied a chair and within minutes a steaming plate of Idli smbhar arrived in front of you. If you did not get up or ask for Coffee after finishing it, a plate of Puri saagu followed. If you remained seated even after Puri saagu, you got one of the most divine Badam halwas in a small plate. And then the bill. I have not visited RB as much as the others but I do have some first hand experience. This is not just hearsay.

Rama vilas hotel is in Nagartpet on what is known as Old Taluk Cutchery (OTC) road. The road which connects corporation office to Chickpet. There was a small concrete dome in the center of the junction of OTC road and Avenue road and it was known as Saraf Katte, probably because of the presence of jewellers around the place. Rama vilas hotel is somewhere in between Saraf katte and Corporation office. Not many may recognise the name  Rama vilas hotel but I am sure any Bangalorean of my age or nearby, who has drank the water from the Tippagondana halli reservoir (that was the first public water supply to Bangalore) would start watering in the mouth if you mention  Gundappana Hotlu.  I was under the impression that it is extinct but to my surprise wikipedia says that it is still operating. I should make it a point to go there during my next visit to Bengaluru even if it means driving through JC road inhaling a life time supply of Carbon monoxide. 

We did not usually go to Gundappana Hotlu to eat but its products reached our home often. I said that my father worked in Chickpet. To reach our home in Shantinagar, he had to walk up to NR road Via avenue road, (Narasimha Raja Road, the road in front of GDC) wait for the bus near Jamia Masjid, get down near KH road ( double road) and walk another kilometer to reach home. Many a times he simply walked all the way home via OTC road and mission road and if he walked home, he had to pass in front of Rama Vilas Hotel. If he had a packet of Kharasev, Pakodas, Jilebi or Dumroot in his hand when he reached home, we knew that he walked home. Since we were not mature enough to feel bad about his walking home in the hot sun, we just enjoyed the delicacies and wished he walked home more frequently!

Dumroot by the way is a sweet made of grated pumpkin (Ash gourd) cooked slowly in ghee along with khova and sugar and garnished with dry fruits! It is divine. The khara sev liberally filled with cashew nuts and Jilebi with real kesar had their own special flavor and every bite was a treat. If I make it there in my next trip I will let you know if it is still the same.

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At last, I come to MTR. This post is turning out to be longer than what I anticipated. I think I will make another post entirely of MTR. It deserves it. If you have read till here, liked this and still have patience, just say so and wait for another day or two. I promise not to disappoint you. 

NB: None of the pictures in the post are mine. They are lifted from the net.  The words are entirely mine and the experience, first hand! 

Borim Mountain Run 2017

Sidhdhanath Parvat - Borim Ponda is about 10 kms from my house. I have been living so close to that hill, supposed to be the second tallest in Goa, but had never climbed it.  I had made an attempt about twenty years back, along with my children who were about eight and twelve years then. There was a road till the base of the hill and from there you just had to find the path going to the top and climb up. The hill probably is laterite and there were stretches of loose soil and gravel. I had to watch my step and also ensure the safety of the children. To top it, I had selected a summer afternoon for the adventure! We went half way and gave up. I had been planning to go there again but never did.

So, when I heard of the 15 km Borim Mountain Run I was tempted and since I had recently completed a 10km run with out difficulty, decided to give it a try. From the starting point to the top of the hill is 7.5kms and based on my previous experience I thought that I should be able at least to walk to the top of the hill and come down. Then I could always call some one and request for a pick up.

The route was very pleasant but tough. The first three kilometers were supposed to be level ground but I only found some small stretches of level road in the undulating terrain. Fourth onwards it is a steep climb. But as it happened I took exactly an hour to reach the top and returned in fifty five minutes. So, I put up a post to pat my own back and give an opportunity for others to do the same!

One of the easy stretches. Clean and pleasant countryside. 

Halfway mark. So far so good.

A small stretch of about 300 meters was bad

People come from afar to punish their legs - what fun!

I did reach the top and it was a great feeling. 

Blowing my trumpet

With of our group members. 

Another very nice stretch

Mookam Karoti Vaachaalam.........

You are said to be having ‘green fingers’ if the plants cared by you thrive and give you a good yield. If that is so, my fingers are certainly red. As red as the tomatoes that never appeared on my tomato plants. Most of the plants that I planted around my house have grown reluctantly, given out some flowers and fruits  grudgingly and have withered away with relief at the slightest excuse. The only exception is the chikoo tree which has been hale and healthy (touch wood) till date and is producing enough to sustain a variety of living beings.  The fruit bat, many birds, squirrels and ants to name a few.  And it has also satisfied the greedy humans around.

One of the unfortunate plants that came under the care of my red fingers is the Jasmine plant. It is a good variety of Jasmine said to be having seven layers of petals and it was planted eight years back. It has produced, on an average, about two flowers a year. I have tried trimming it from time to time as suggested by someone and shifting it as suggested by someone else. I have poured all sorts of manure available at our local co operative store from Neem cakes to fishmeal and even bird shit. But no results. I read somewhere that plants thrive well if you sing to them and I sang while watering them everyday inviting my neighbour’s ire. The plant expressed its displeasure by shedding the few remaining leaves. I thought of uprooting it and putting some other plant in its place but presently I did not have anything with me. So I cut the plant close to the ground and left just a few dry sticks sticking out of mud.

A file picture of my jasmine plant

One of my young friends who was going out of Ponda gave me a flowering tree, which she said is a ‘Bonsai’. Since I did not want to let it die in peace, I decided to repot it with fresh mud and manure. I found a pot, dug up some mud and mixed it with whatever manure was available in the store at that time and placed it in. I poured the remaining manure which was supposed to be bone meal and was stinking like hell, around other plants and some of it was offered to the Jasmine sticks also. More as a sort of last rites. A minor miracle occurred! Within two weeks the plant bloomed like never before and this morning I counted eight flowers and more than a dozen buds in the healthy plant! I was very excited and tried to explain the miracle to all available ears. None seemed to be interested. Since I wanted some outlet, I put it here.

The 'Bonsai' plant presented by my friend

The Jasmine in an unusual blooming mood

My cousine is presently visiting me. He is quite fond of me. I knew that he would not refuse to hear my Jasmine tale and recited the tale.  

He is seventy eight years now. He was fit as a fiddle and had a very healthy and active lifestyle till he was seventy. Then he was afflicted by the two so called lifestyle diseases Diabetes and Hypertension both of which should not have come anywhere close to him. But they did and they thrived. For the next eight years both his blood pressure and sugar levels remained much above normal in spite of the strongest medicines and insulin injections.

To top it, he developed some trouble with his back. It started as a mild pain which soon turned  severe. Along with this he developed some sort of weakness in the back which severely restricted his movements in general, and walking in particular. The fellow who used to walk briskly about eight kilometers everyday could not stand for more than five minutes and was reduced to shuffling along inside his compound wall sitting down every now and then to rest and then restart. It was a pitiable sight . As usual various specialists were consulted, tablets were swallowed, injections were pricked, balms, oils and lotions were rubbed in, and a physiotherapist worked on him. No results. We felt very sad looking at him but he took it philosophically. “It is his wish. So be it" he said.  

Few months back he had a severe and long bout of diarrhoea and also developed ulcers in the mouth which would just not go away. He could hardly eat anything and whatever he ate never nourished him. We had almost given him up for gone. But he did recover from his latest affliction and  the next time his sugar was checked during the routine check up it turned out to be absolutely normal! When it remained normal for the next two months he was taken out of insulin as well as other medications. Soon afterwards he regained some strength and he found that he could walk all round his apartment building without resting! The subsequent recovery was just short of a miracle. 

This morning he walked ten rounds of our six hundred meter walking track without trouble.

He was sitting and enjoying his morning coffee with sugar when I told him about my Jasmine and he said

“Mookam Karoti Vaachaalam

Pangum Langhayate Girim

Yatkripa Tamaham Vande

Paramaananda Maadhavam .  

(I salute Madhava, the source of supreme bliss.

His grace can make the dumb an eloquent orator

and the lame,  jump over a mountain!)

If he could make me walk, He can certainly make your Jasmine bloom!"

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