It was one of those random Saturday evenings… I was at a loose end when some work at office, which I expected to take really long, got done at a decent enough hour for me to make plans for a dinner other than the TV dinner I was expecting, but was still late enough for me to have no company for said dinner, as my friends had all made their plans for the evening already.
Having resigned myself to the fate of a TV dinner, but not really looking forward to it, I got into a cab and asked the cab driver to take me to Bandra. As people who have known me for a while would know, Bandra is to me what manna is to a parched throat. Maybe that sounds like an exaggeration, but it is true that I find myself drawn towards the queen of the suburbs and its various sea facing promenades whenever I am happy, sad, angry, troubled, lonely, in need of a pick-me-up, or as was the case that day, at a loose end. The calm that I feel when sitting by the sea has few equals, except maybe eating food cooked by the mother…both experiences take me to a nice and happy place where all is well with the world.
But as usual, I digress…so there I was, sitting in a cab, waiting for inspiration to strike, when suddenly, it did. And yes, my idea was, once again, inspired by my favourite food blogger’s recent sojourn…I decided to go to Punjab Sweet House. I’d sampled a little of their legendary chaats once, when a friend, hungry from a long wait for me, had dashed in for some papdi chaat, and I’d made it there just in time to eat the last morsel.
The Punjab Sweet House at Pali Naka in Bandra, right opposite the lane leading to Toto’s was originally a sweet shop, which also catered to the chaat loving taste buds of the many Punjabi families in nearby Pali Hill. They have been known to made some of the most amazing dahi bhalle in town, and the experience of their papdi chaat, based on the one morsel I had sampled, is certainly one of the most divine this side of the Vindhyas.
Recently, the owners have, happily for us who have been brought up in north India and love the taste of good chhole (which, for the record, bear no resemblance to the concoction served in restaurants here, which is flavoured with curry leaves), forayed into the restaurant business as well, and the floor above the original sweet shop has been converted into a small, but comfortable restaurant. The restaurant, at first glance, is a strictly no-frills family restaurant, though some attempts have been made to beautify the interiors with paintings of rural settings in Punjab, depicting women in the pind (village, in Punjabi) engaged in various tasks of day to day life. There is also a half-boundary-ish wall running between the two sections of the restaurant, separating the tables for larger groups from the two and four-seater tables, which has been decorated with some form of greenery.
Frankly, though I had heard only good things about the food served at Punjab Sweet Hose, I hadn’t heard much by way of ambience and there was certainly little to comfort me, if first impressions were anything to go by. And while there is certainly something to be said about being footloose and fancyfree in a city like Mumbai, based on past experience, sometimes the same can also work rather to one’s disadvantage. So I walked in, expecting nothing really, and prepared to call the waiter to pack my food and walk out in the worst situation. However, I was in for a surprise, and a rather pleasant one, at that…my sincere apologies to anyone who takes offence at the negative stance I had as I entered, but in my opinion, it’s better than being thoroughly let down.
So I walked in, and settled myself in one of the two seater tables. While the waiters looked a little taken aback, they regained their composure quickly enough and were the image of proficiency and helpfulness as I placed my order…I suppose they aren’t really used to too many single girls walking in and eating in the restaurant. The restaurant wasn’t really full, much to my surprise, it being a Saturday evening, but that may have been because most people possibly chose to order in, rather than venture out to eat in a simple, old fashioned restaurant, promosing great food and nothing much else.
Initial survey done, I was ready to place my order. I was ravenous, so I went ahead and ordered for a plate of kulche chhole and a glass of lassi. Food came really quick and the first bite of the kulcha (which was stuffed with alu) took me back to the same happy place I am transported to by Ma’s cooking and all was well with the world again. The piping hot food and the chilled lassi wove its magic to lift my spirits and took away all the drudgery of the past week. It was a simple, heart warming meal, one I could almost imagine had been cooked by a loving mother and which had the same effect too. Though I was struggling to finish the second kulcha, I didn’t have the heart to waste it, and ended up stuffing myself way beoynd what I had planned.
That unfortunately, left no space for dessert, but I did end up packing some moong dal halwa to take home anyway and relishing it the next day, reliving my experience of that unexpected Saturday evening dinner in the company of me.
All in all, an unexpectedly lovely and heartwarming experience for the footloose and fancyfree diaries after all, I say!
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