“Would you like an omelette or chilli chicken?” asks the smiling M Chitra, who waits at our table at Banyan Restaurant at Theppakadu in the Nilgiris. I opt for the omelette and Chitra brings it piping hot, with a generous sprinkling of pepper on top. It goes so well with the rice and sambar that I almost cry. There’s no network on my phone; I haven’t been drinking enough water for hours for fear of not encountering a loo in the forest (there’s a clean one at the restaurant) and am rundown after travelling on ghat roads all day. Chitra, her warmth, and the simple fare her colleagues cook for us, make us forget that we’re deep inside a forest where fresh food is a luxury.
Udhagamandalam, Tamil Nadu, 22/04/2019 : (for Metroplus) Banyan restaurant in Theppakadu, Mudumalai Tiger Reserve the restaurant is been run by Members of the Eco development committee . Photo : M . Sathyamoorthy / The Hindu.
Located opposite the Theppakadu Elephant Camp in Mudumalai Tiger Reserve, Banyan is jointly run by the Tribal Eco Development Committee (EDC) and the Mudumalai Tiger Conservation Foundation. Everyone who works there, from the receptionist M Bindu, to the waiters and cooks, are from nearby tribal settlements such as Camo Padi and Light Padi. Proceeds from the restaurant will go towards their welfare.
The spread
For lunch, there’s rice, thick sambar , tomato rasam , buttermilk, kootu made from locally-grown keerai (greens) , cowpeas sundal, and appalam . It’s a no-fuss meal that tastes like home-cooked food — the sambar , for instance, has so much dal when compared to the watery versions most city restaurants serve, and the keerai too, is cooked to a melt-in-the-mouth perfection. The photographer, our driver, and I eat in silence. The Moyar river gurgles at a distance and we can hear nothing but us crunching on the appalam , and the occasional bird call. Nearby, a tusker from the camp is enjoying his afternoon bath at the river.
Started in 2016, Banyan serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We peek into the modest kitchen led by M Mahadevan, who’s from Gudalur. In neat saris, their well-oiled hair in a braid, for the women who work there, the pucca building is a sharp contrast to their erstwhile workplace. “I worked for the Forest Department on contract, cutting grass to clear the roads,” explains Chitra, whose father is a Malasar and mother is a Kurumba.
Most of the women who are part of the Eco Development Committee (EDC) are from the Betta Kurumba tribe. “There are 25 of them working at the restaurant and the 14 adjacent cottages that we let out to tourists,” says C Chick Bomman, president, EDC. “Traditionally, people from tribal communities in the region worked three months a year as Fire Watchers for the Forest Department. Apart from this, they were also engaged as labourers at tea and coffee estates.”
But their lives remained the same; the forests they worked at was their limit. “Not any more,” says Bomman. “Our lives have changed. For instance, initially, our women were very shy to talk to the guests; they’d hardly interacted with outsiders. But now, they’ve learned to be cordial and are learning a lot by interacting with people.”
Bomman says that around 30 tribal families benefit from the restaurant. “We have earmarked funds for weddings, temple festivals, and death rituals,” he explains. More importantly, funds generated will also be used to support the higher education of children from the community.
At Banyan, guests are served greens such as kirey kiri and eringe kiri . “These are local terms for the greens we grow here,” says Bomman. We polish off our meal and head out past a cranky toddler who makes it difficult for his mother to eat. The staff offer to carry him outside. K Sundari, M Kethi, and their colleagues come out to sit with the boy on the steps at the entrance. He’s calmer now, and has his eyes fixed on the forest that extends before him.
