They say all good things must come to an end. On the last day, at Sri Parthasarathy Swami Sabha , the elaborately decorated Mountbatten Mani Iyer canteen was empty, save for a handful of people quietly immersed in their food. Expecting a flurry of activity, my photographer and I rushed to get hold of a table but all we saw instead were wandering servers in their plastic hairnets and men at the cash counter bored out of their wits. While a few of us were relishing our lighter-than-air bite-sized pieces of Mangalore bonda, we could hear sizeable bytes from the valedictory function.
K. Srinivasan, who has been taking care of the canteen since 2001 (he started out with The Music Academy, progressed to Chennaiyil Thiruvaiyaru), started catering at the Parthasarathy Swami Sabha from 2010. His penchant for experimentation stems from his fondness for innovation. “I got the idea for the chocolate dosai, which featured on my menu, from a trip to Singapore. There’s a lot of room for creativity. This year, for instance, I introduced black rice halwa, jackfruit rava cake, and elaneer rasam apart from regular favourites such as wheat, ragi and corn idiyappam and vazhaithandu dosai.”
As he rattled off an exhaustive (and exhausting to note) list of dishes, one could not help but wonder if he crafted a menu for the health conscious. As per Srinivasan’s logic, “people will try a dish at least once.” Intrigued by the elaneer idli (and its popularity in the canteen), I chalked it up as an attempt to eat healthy and order it, while my photographer settled for molaga bajji, a treasured Chennai delicacy.
It’s 6.15 p.m. and finally people started trickling in - both from outside and from inside the hall - and some regular rasikas jumped up when they spoted singers they knew (Vijay Siva and K. N. Shashikiran). The elaneer idli was intriguing to say the least. Studded with tiny pieces of coconut, it was watery on one part and cakey on the other.
What really took the cake, though, was the accompanying sambar: it was like when you end up at a concert excited at the prospect of listening to the vocalist but the violinist’s solo is what warrants the ticket fee. The sambar hit all the right notes - spicy and runny with just a hint of hing .
Amidst all the sampling, my enterprising photographer had arranged for some of the dishes to be photographed. Those dishes naturally made their way to our table — like the keerai vadai , generous in spinach, ginger and cashews, which was burnt to a crisp on the sides and came apart quite easily; or the flavour of the coconut oil-laden avial that wafted right to the other end of the canteen; or the small dumpling of Kanchipuram idli speckled with carrot, ginger and coriander and steamed to perfection. By the time the photographs were done, there was a crowd around the table and at the venue; of people waiting for their turn to sample the menu on the last day of the canteen.
Did the season keep him busy enough? Srinivasan’s voice boomed over the phone, “For something that lasts a month, I had to prepare three months in advance. Even something as trivial as stocking change: A person drinks coffee for Rs. 35 and hands a thousand rupee note. One has to be prepared for all that.” I was reminded of the dose of coffee that I had drunk - it was dark, strong and caramelly and I also had the exact same note to offer.
