Author: manuscrypts

  • Khaaja Chowk

    The review was first published in Bangalore Mirror.

    Indiranagar suddenly seems to have caught this second wind, as far as new restaurants go.  Suddenly there’s a spate of new restaurants, and on one building, (the same as Girias – map) if you manage to go higher than ‘High on Thai’, you’ll find Khaaja Chowk. Valet parking available, and there’s reasonable space for 2 wheelers nearby.

    Kitschy chic makes for a good oxymoron, and I’d probably use the décor of Khaaja Chowk as its poster child. Posters are exactly where we’ll start, the ones I was caught gaping at, and then clicking away furiously. If you love Bollywood as I do, there’s no way you’d miss the chance to capture micro posters of ‘Shaitan Mujrim’, ‘Pistol Wali’ and so on!  Or you could take a step back and walk up the last flight of stairs that lead to the restaurant on the third floor, its walls adorned with framed retro matrimonial columns, lottery tickets and matchbox covers!

    There’s no escape once you’re inside either! Internet darlings like ‘Child Bear’ and ‘Lick-her-Shop’ take their rightful place alongside more to-the-point shop hoarding graphics like ‘Angrezi Sharab ki Dukaan’. You’d also want to check out that special table with bindis, clips and nail polish sets under a glass top. The auto rickshaw tables deserve a special mention, perfect for a group of 4, though we didn’t sit there because it was quite late and feared whether we’d finally be asked to pay one-and-a-half times the bill. The person to thank for all the above is Vikram Nair, who started the chain of restaurants several years ago in Gurgaon and brought it to Bangalore a month and a half back. Interesting trivia is that his sister is Mira Nair, no, not a namesake, the filmmaker herself.

     

    It was difficult to get the visual treat to take a backseat, but we finally managed to get down to business with a Cheese Chilli Seekh Kabab, a Khaaji ki Chaat and a Non Veg Kabab Platter. The chaat turned out to be standard papdi chaat fare, save the sev, and with a cabbage signature! The chilli dominated the Cheese Chilli kabab and the cheese was relegated to the background in terms of flavour, but is highly recommended if you don’t mind some spice. The non veg platter consists of Chicken Banno Kabab, Chicken Burrah Kabab and Mutton Seekh Kabab. The Burrah Kabab was the best of the lot, mildly spicy and juicy. The Seekh lost out only because it was slightly crumbly, though its flavours were just right. The Banno Kabab was subtle to the point of being bland, and was the least favourite. We also tried a sweet lassi to wash it all down, but that was quite a disappointment, mostly thanks to the sour curd! The other drink we tried was the Virgin Mary Masala – standard tomato juice and Worcestershire sauce but with a green chillies and masala desi twist that made the drink special.

     

    The menu seems a toned down version of the one available at other outlets of the chain. Quite surprisingly for the crowd involved, the dish that became an instant favourite was a vegetarian one – the Makhmali Kofta curry, a white cashew based gravy that was mildly spicy and creamy and had koftas that just smoothly slide down. The Chicken Chengezi is not as fiery as its name makes it out to be and is supposed to be only mildly spicy. It was exactly that, but had a slight tan (for a dish supposed to be made in milk and cream) and was missing the boiled egg. However, it was well cooked and quite tasty. The Rara Gosht was the least impressive – the gravy was too greasy for our liking and the meat was unevenly cooked, actually mostly rubbery. The naans were standard and if you like spice, you might want to try the Rogni Naan. The Matka Biryani – Chicken came late to the party but got a good response – subtle flavours, not greasy and succulent chicken pieces.

    The Rabri Khaaja and the Rocket Kulfi were the standout items in the menu, so we decided to test them out. The Kulfi’s flowery presentation needs a special mention and it also turned out reasonably well, though quite subtle. We liked the Rabri Khaaja more though, thanks to its combination of a crunchy base and a malai based topping.

     

    A mocktail, a lassi, a non-veg starter, a couple of naans, a veg and non-veg dish for the main course, and a shared kulfi would cost approx 1,200 inclusive of taxes. We had perfect weather for an under-the-sky meal, and all the seating options –even the ones inside – have their own charm, in addition to the unique overall ambiance. Add to it, the serendipity of rediscovering 90s Bollywood songs, and we have a box office winner. The only villain in the piece was the tardy service once the place got crowded. Which reminds me, it’s probably a good idea to reserve in advance, the place does get crowded. The meal started and ended well, though the main course could have been better. For all of this, you should definitely drop in at least once. If not a chakka, at least a chauka is guaranteed.

    Khaaja Chowk, No-276, 100 feet Road, HAL 2nd Stage, Indiranagar, Ph: 080- 40920585

  • Realty Check 2

    The area was perfect. They called the number mentioned at the site, to be told that the price was Rs.13000 per sq.ft! The plan was simple – get a friend everyday to call up and start laughing hysterically as soon as the builder quoted the price. Hopefully, sense would prevail and the price would come down!

    until next time, remember Part 1?

  • Death of a Moneylender

    Kota Neelima

    Farmer suicides are unfortunately a ‘dog bites man’ story in journalism parlance, but Falak Anand is sent to a remote village in south central India to cover an almost ‘man bites dog’ version- a money lender has been found hanging, and an entire village is suspect.

    I quite liked the book for the premise, and the subject matter, because while this is a work of fiction, it gives a lot of perspective on the conditions and circumstances that forces a farmer to take his own life – crop cycles, dependence on rain/sun, credit facilities which show the reasons why farmers are forced to go to moneylenders despite the existence of banks, market economics and the wily middlemen, and the abject poverty that all these factors collectively land the farmer in. Add to this, a corrupt set of politicians and file-pushing bureaucrats, and the farmer is left with no other choice.

    In the context of the book, it takes the death of a decent moneylender who wishes well for the farmers, for this stranglehold to be loosened.

    Now, while I understand that the author has taken pains to ensure that the inhumanity of it all gets drilled into us, I felt that, as a work of fiction, it could’ve been edited better, especially the last 30 (about) pages, especially since the climax is quite predictable and given away by the summary.

    Also, except for Falak’s character, which dominates the proceedings, the others tend to be just supportive and all too stereotyped, despite a setting I haven’t encountered much before.

    But I’d still recommend it for sensitizing us to an India that is somehow forgotten amidst our relatively trivial urban dramas.

  • It’s all roleplay

    The other day, Samadooram, a talk show on Mazhavil Manorama featured Revathy, in the context of Revathy’s own show Kanamarayathu on the same channel, that deals with children who have run away from home. I’m not a viewer of that show, and cannot really comment on the content, but… (Opinion – on related things – follows. 🙂 )

    One of the things that piqued my interest was something that Revathy said during the show – that she was disappointed by the attitude of a well educated person who asked her whether they created so much melodrama on the show to attract more viewers. (that the Malayali audience is addicted to glycerin is well established by the success of the daily soaps on various channels) That reminded me of the twitter reaction to Day 1 of Satyamev Jayate and the posts that followed in the next few days – swinging from abject cynicism to equating it to the second coming.

    (Generalising) In India, there is obviously a huge difference between the perspectives of the low single digit percentage of people on twitter who are rarely directly affected by issues (barring #firstworldproblems) and the billions who are not on twitter but who are directly affected. However, the polarising of opinions is something I’ve seen outside of twitter too, increasingly these days. In that sense, twitter does act as a microcosm of the world outside. Which brings me to the other related point that Revathy made – sensitising people to the things that happen around them, not directly affecting them, but could later, or which they could influence in a positive way if they acted on it. Not to blame anyone, but I am aware that today’s society is becoming increasingly selfish and living in self made bubbles. Existential pragmatism perhaps.

    But what I’d like to think about here is media’s role – the question that was asked to Revathy. Media, and I’m talking of the institution here and not any one specific, could play a great role in sensitising, mostly thanks to its reach and the varied perspectives it can capture. However, such is the competition for eyeballs and money, that ‘any means necessary’ is the accepted credo. Such is the onslaught on the remaining senses that I wonder if collectively, media has forced its audience to move directly to a desensitised state without pausing at ‘sensitise’. Whose responsibility is it finally to filter – the sender (media) or the receiver? (audience) I am really not sure. On my part, I don’t watch news channels, and I can’t say it has damaged me permanently. What do you think? (No, not about the damage it has/not caused me, but the roles)

    until next time, know your role

    Postscript: While on the subject, a small bit on celebrity anchors. They have enormous personal clout, and (this is an example) this can do + and – for their shows – bring and take away focus. I don’t grudge Aamir making 3 crores out of a Satyamev Jayate episode. He is a professional actor and it so happens that this is a project that (seems as per propaganda) is close to his heart. He does not need to part with his remuneration to show his commitment to the cause. That’s like forcing an employee to spend x% of his salary to buy his company’s product/service every month on salary day, since he’s supposedly – in pop lingo – ‘passionate’ about his job. On the flip side, Aamir is not doing the world a favour by being the face of the show either. What he could do to help though, is to write a small note that clarifies his role for the audience. It’s not an obligation, but whether it’s a job as a professional or his own personal affection for a show – if he were true to it – he would want the conversation around the topic of the show – the issue at hand.

  • I & Monkey

    D wanted to write this post owing to the title, but my super power is admin rights for this blog. Ha! A rainy, slushy Bangalore night tried to make a monkey out of us, but we stuck to our plan, though it did mean that we  looked like wet monkeys when we arrived at the restaurant on 12th Main Indiranagar. (on the left, when coming from the Sony Center signal on 100 feet Road) Parking – 12th main and those side lanes, you should be fine. If I’m not mistaken, this building used to be the former cricketer Prasanna’s house! Not surprising, the owners would want this to be a money spinner too, like their other venture – Windsor Pub. 😉 We had a reservation, and I didn’t say this aloud so we managed not be thrown out, wet shorts and all. 🙂 Classy lighting, well placed tables and foot tapping music makes for a great ambiance in spite of the mandatory LCD screens.

    Thanks to the reviews we read online, we had a rough idea of what we wanted, though we couldn’t find a menu online. I managed to take a few snaps of the menu, something I’d promised myself I wouldn’t (and rely on Zomato) But there seems to be some perception that the menu is limited. The snaps would prove otherwise. (click for larger image) They also have a well stocked bar and an extensive wine list.

      

      

      

    Though we were drowning under the choices, we asked for a special (not on the regular menu, seems to be a week’s special) – Momo Pork Wopper and very uncharacteristically, and greedily added a second starter – Chargrilled Chicken Fillets. The latter was only because the one we really wanted – the Shikari Style Veddi Erachi was not available. They offered us a close equivalent but that was a more regular dish, so we passed. The pork momos were quite tasty and steamed well, though we’d have liked the sauce to be a bit more spicy. The chicken fillet also had a ‘gunpowder’ filling, which actually ended up adding more texture than spice to the mix. But it’s worth a shot. 🙂

      

    For the main course too, we were spoilt for choice, and it was quite fun to read some of the dish names too – goes well with the quirky name of the restaurant. After much deliberation, we decided to order the Calangute Chicken Bafath. It comes with appams/sannas and as you can see, we chose the latter. The sannas turned out to be quite good, and the gravy, mildly spicy, turned out to be one of the coconut milk based ones that we have a strong liking for. There are many many more dishes which, at least on paper, sound really good, so while this one was quite good, I’d urge you to be adventurous. 🙂 We debated desserts, but there was nothing that really made us sit up and take notice.

    The service is helpful, but does tend to go a bit overboard. For instance, in our feedback form, we said more dessert options would be great. The person who took the order immediately came back and started an extensive survey on what we’d like!

    The meal cost us just over Rs.950, inclusive of service charge and tax. Slightly on the higher side, but worth the occasional visit.

    I & Monkey, 968, 12th Main, HAL 2nd Stage, Indiranagar, Ph: 40923656