Gloria Jean's/PalmGrove/Dewberry's: A weekend to remember.

It's been quite a while since I reviewed any restaurants. And when I finally decide to, it's on a Tuesday. This could be because I'm:

a)A sadistic jackass, of the variety that salivates and dreams about the food she'll be imbibing in the weekend, and wants to inflict a similar mode of visual torture on her readers.

b)A lazy cook who has run out of delicious recipes to post.

Would you be believe me if I say I'm neither?

And instead of doing restaurants, I'm going to review dishes that didn't have me thinking what I'd do change it or wishing I hadn't ordered it. Basically, dishes I loved.

1)The BBQ chicken wrap at Dewberry's, on R.K.Salai. Costs 160 rupees. The only qualm I have about it is that the portion wasn't enough. Not oh-my-GOD-it-was-so-freaking-good-I-can't-have-enough enough. More like "give-me-a-real-piece!" enough. Not all of us have a 26" waist to maintain. Not all of us use food as an accesory/prop.

The chicken is spicy, succulent, creamy from the mayo and the wrap is nicely toasted. The fries are above OK, and the coleslaw is borderline OK.

Pretty decent. Give it a go.

However, it's one of the places that are key on ambiance I'm guessing. For a cheapo foodie, it might be a letdown. For a date: double thumbs up! It's completely an Open-Air restaurant which, I know, sounds disastrous in Madras. But. There were plenty of charming fans whizzing around, strategic lighting and no mosquitoes. If your company is good enough, you won't even notice how bland the pesto pasta is.

NOT GOOD. AT ALL.

Don't order it. Pesto should be bursting with the flavour of basil and the creaminess of the pine nuts, even if it's not meant to be spicy. Not a congealed mass of flavourless, gummy, overpriced gluten.

2)The Onion Rava Masala Dosai at Hotel Palmgrove, off Nungambakkam High Road.

Bad photo. Yum-yum-yummy dosai.

Oh my good God. I didn't even know this place existed. And I've lived here all my life.

The potato masala comes on the side. It has chunky bits of carrots, peas and cashewnuts in it. It is so simple, so fabulous. It has a homey-ness to it, a flavour I know I've tasted but can't quite put my finger on. It really is an experience. Go try it.

And if you're in the mood for retro-style drinks, order the grape juice/pineapple juice. Only if you like Kalimark Bovonto or Saravana's Grape Kuchi Ice (Popsicle) though. The old grape juice of lore, mildly cough syrup-ish, but still with chunky grape skin it. And I thought these things were dinosaurs, all extinct. Costs 50 bucks a dosai/drink.

3)The doughnut at Gloria Jean's, Express Avenue.

Gloria Jean's is expensive. Any of their ice-blended coffee drinks will set you back by more than a 100 bucks, assuming you order a Grande instead of Regular (um. Duh).

However, they have the nicest sprinkles. I'm a sucker for those suckers.

And coffee cups holders.

And their doughnuts. Oh, man. I tend to pooh-pooh at the banana bread (Rs 60/slice) and the mini-muffins (50 bucks a piece), because I can whip those up at home. Not doughnuts, though.

And these are killer. At 45 bucks, they're a bloody steal (coming from a penny pincher/careful eater like me, you better believe it). It's huge enough to fill your stomach, adverse effect of which is that you'll feel like a pig after you're done with it. A happy pig though. They heat the doughnut for you, so it's all warm and the chocolate frosting (not glaze, frosting, mind you) melts and makes a delicious mess. Mmm. No. Mmmmm.

 And you can totally sit at Gloria Jean's and eyeball the shoppers/vetti people loitering about EA. Paradoxically making you one of the vetti lot, but how fun it is to run people down when you're with your girls from school.

You'll notice how the last four senteces started with an "And." So grammatically incorrect, so emphatically true.

A Feast Fit for Zeus/Kryptos by Willi.

I've found happiness at Kryptos.

OK, I'm being a little dramatic. I knew it would be good, of course, having enjoyed dinner at Tuscana very much. However, it takes a little more than good to impress me.

They did, and how.

People ask me if they can take my word because I've never actually bashed any restaurant on my blog. It's simply because I have neither the time nor the inspiration to write reviews of places I haven't enjoyed. Rest assured, if I'm confronted with disrespectful, bad service AND exorbitant pricing, you'll hear a earful from me. Not this time, though. This time, you're hearing a earful of sweet, sweet praise.

The food scene at Madras has morphed so much over the last decade. Growing up, Fine Dining  meant either The Golden Dragon at Taj Coramandel/Raintree at Taj Connemera/Peshawar at Chola Sheraton. All good places. Still. After dining at Kryptos by Willi, I'm left feeling like a proud mama; the scene has sprouted up like a teenage boy in such a short while!

Greek food at Madras would mean me, straining yogurt for hours, to come up with a little cup of Tzatziki. Pita bread would start with mixing honey and yeast, and waiting. Waiting for the dough to rise up. Pummeling it down. Waiting. Kneading. Waiting. Baking it in an oven, as opposed to a stone. It's a beautiful experience, bread is the reason of life and all that, but Hunger wins. Rule of life.

So. Some-lucky-times, excellent pita bread is served in front of you, five minutes after you sit down. Back to Kryptos. The hummus that comes on the side puts any hummus I've had here (including my enthusiastic efforts) to shame.
That, in a cozy room, that's pleasantly lit and has Middle-Eastern-sounding singers croon out of the speakers, with beautiful cutlery and well-done interiors. Almost like a painting.

The cold mezze consists of an array of cheese, olives, cold salads and cuts of meat (including octopus-a first for me at Madras!), an unlimited amount at Rs 450. The feta is crumbly and salty, like good feta should be. Um. I'm sold right there. But mum and the others found it repetitive; I strongly suggest you skip it if you're hypertensive or if your palate isn't attuned to cold, saline things.

The hot mezze was a universal favourite with the family though. Priced at Rs. 700-ish, a selection of appetizers are laid out. Four of each, I think, there were. We got the non-vegetarian one, the downside of which is that falafel is out!

Batter-fried squid, fried sardines, Arnipitakia and Kofte balls,
with a side of Muhammara (that's what I'm guessing the red dip was).

Calamari - most restaurants I go to has it on the menu, and then they disappoint me by saying it's unavailable. I ate most of the calamari, as if to make up for all the times I've been let down!

Sardines-this one I skipped, because I'm weird with fish that have tiny bones in them. Mum and Dad found it delicious, and they're not food fanatics like the rest of us.

Kofte balls - I'm not a big meat eater, and I loved it. I don't even think I need to speak for the carnivores that make my family. Anybody with an Indian palate would enjoy it.
Arnipitakia - things like this cement the fact that there is a God above. Tender minced meat, in an incredibly yummy sauce, wrapped up in a phyllo dough (puff pastry) and baked. Enough said. W has written some form of poetry on it, though.

If I could change one thing, I'd say introduce "Make your own platter!" where you could choose any four appetizers; but that certainly would take out the posh, though, no?

When it came to soup, half of us ordered a creamy, lemony chicken broth with rice and egg. It was all of those things, but a little too heavy and almost difficult to finish (even the 1-by-2 portion). The other half lucked out, as they ordered a steaming hot soup with carrots and meatballs; it was hearty without being heavy.

We next had the grilled seer fish souvlaki, the picture of which I couldn't snap, because it was eaten before the plate made contact with the table. It's got basil and saffron in the marinade, and it flakes like excellent fish should. I'm posting the link to their Facebook page, though, so you can salivate over it when you get bored at work (I do when I'm supposed to be studying).

Tzatziki, agapi mou/mi amor/my love.

Get the garlic rice on the side. It isn't much. But to quote a cliched statement, best things come in small packages. Flavourful little bits of heaven. Souvlakis comes along with salad and pita bread. Ask for some extra tzatziki/hummus and get to making little pita pockets. Assuming you have a well-behaved family, of course.

Moussaka, five seconds after its arrival.

And get the moussaka. I'm like Garfield when it comes to Lasagna (and most other things in life). Moussaka is the fully pimped-out, gourmet version of the lasagna. Sliced aubergine, zucchini, minced meat get layered with that narcotic-like red sauce, and a bechamel (the French white cheese sauce?) that I'm almost certain has feta in it.

Moussaka, five minutes after its arrival.

And because it still wasn't enough for my family, and we had in our midst along a very special guest of honour that day (smiley face), Dad ordered a chicken-pie like thing, which the waiter recommended. Chicken in melted cheese in a tart made of puff pastry. Most of the family found it kickass, but seriously, the Moussaka upstaged it too much for me.

Baked potato and salad on the side.

But by the time Desserts rolled aroud, I was fully regretting my decision to eat huge portions of the main course. Confucius say picture worth thousand words. OK, it was some person of Chinese origin, and Confucius the only Sino-philosopher I know.

So. Three thousand words follow.

To cut or not to cut it? That's the question.

Svingi. Batter-fried, gooey chocolate. This is what Dreams are Made Of. The vanilla gelato has vanilla beans in it. Yes, this has been the ONLY time I've chosen vanilla over chocolate.

The baklava was a reluctant decision. We ordered it only for completion's sake. This baklava shattered any previous bad experiences with syrupy-sweet, prepackaged baklava. This is the only baklava ever, that holds a candle to the ones Dad brings from Turkey. Even W, who knows his baklava, had good things to say about it.

The greek walnut cake with cinnamon-and-honey was light and nutty and buttery and all-around delicious; something I'll try in my own kitchen for sure. I'm going back here pretty soon, just for tea and dessert. The desserts cost about 150 bucks each, and the tea around 100 bucks, so kind of the Grecian equivalent of Latitute 13 or Sandy's.

So. Kryptos by Willi. It is pricey, yes (and sigh). But not disproportionately so. If there's a ring that needs to be put on a finger, a tough exam that has been passed, a salary that needs to be celebrated, go here. My brother, who vehementaly protested against it, saying arty little plates of garnish wasn't food (the guy's ideal Sunday lunch would be the Unlimited Buffet at Sigree), was a happy/satiated camper at the end of it.

Feast fit for a king, indeed (Incidentally, King = Not my brother!! A hypothetical king.)

Big Mmmm, people. Big Mmmm.

Bruschetta. Cake? Bruschetta. Aw, hell. Both.

A huge chunk of the people who've come to me for medical advice lately greet me with a balled-up tissue and a cough (in case I don't believe them). From a runny nose to full-blown pneumonia, there's been a respiratory virus around (eventually turning bacterial).

Why did I choose to share this irrelevant epithet with you guys? I've sadly fallen prey to the bug as well and that means having to forgo my weekly dose of ice-cream. I'm still pinning my hopes on getting fully back to normal by the end of the month so I can go buy a freezer full of ice-cream at 31% discount at Baskin-Robbins. Mint chocolate chip equals Happiness!

Things like these keep me going.

Since ice-cream was ruled out, the family and I ended up having pastry for dessert last Sunday. La Chocolat Patisserie on Casa Major Road is a hop, skip and jump away from my house. Pastry is definitely not my favourite dessert (cost/benefit ratio, proportional calorific rate, etc), but I took one for the team and trudged along.

What can I say about it? The ambience was repetitive; air-conditioned, spacious and clean. Not complaining. Instead of just pastry, the place also makes everything from wraps and tortillas to Manchurian-type-things, none of which we tried. No beating around the bush for us.

The pastry? Since I tend to bake stuff with chocolate in it a lot, I can't be unbiased about pastry. It has to be beyond-excellent for me to gasp out.

I chose the most expensive one of them all. The Mississippi Mud Cake. It was excellent, obviously, but paying Rs. 120 for a slice of cake(a slice, mind you, not a big wedge, which would have been semi-justifiable)? But since I bake, I know how much these things cost, throw in 1)food inflation, 2)the store being owned by one of Dad's friends, 3)excessive chocolate and you have a pacified Rabia. The sister-in-law and I shared it. With the rest of the family (especially my brother).




Mississippi Mud Cake



The kids were displaying their ill-kept ways by wrecking general havoc and earning us the wrath of all the customers who just-wanted-to-eat-their-expensive-cake-damn-it. We tried silencing them with a Truffle Pop each, but bribery only works the 30 bucks we paid for it. The Truffle Pop at Rs. 30 might seem pricey, but Kinder Joy (Indian) costs that much and when you dissect it down, Kinder Joy is just a plastic shell of crap.

Truffle Pop!

Mum and Dad shared an Eggless Milk Chocolate Truffle Cake. It costs Rs. 60 per slice, and they couldn't finish it. I don't know if it's because the portion was huge or the taste didn't encourage another bite. Fruit excites them more than chocolate does.

My brother finished it for them.

Eggless Milk Chocolate Truffle

My brother had trouble selecting the pastry(ies) he was going to have, but finally settled on the Four-Chocolate Mousse. Wiped the plate clean all by himself. Priced at Rs. 90, I'd suggest you get it if you want something light with chocolate in it, as opposed to most other pastry which can be dense and cloying (such a good thing in my book. Correction. Blog).



Four Chocolate Mousse Cake



To round up the bill, I picked up a small loaf of french bread. Something virtuous we were having for breakfast, the morning-after of the Chocolate Explosion! that our "bit of dessert" turned into.

Bruschetta

Ingredients:

Tomatoes: 3, diced and deseeded.

Garlic: 5 cloves, grated or brunoised.

Extra Virgin Olive Oil: a glug.

Dried basil: 2 tbsps.

Salt and pepper: to taste.

Baguette: 1/2 a loaf.

Method:

Toss all the ingredients together in a bowl. Taste it. Make adjustments according to your taste. Let it marinate in the refrigerator overnight, so the tomatoes take in all of the olive oil and salt and taste vaguely like sun-dried tomatoes.

Slice the baguette diagonally. Toast or bake each slice, spread a little of the tomato on it, and garnish with some more herbs!

If you want, you could put sauteed mushrooms or cheese or olives and bake it like a mini-pizza for 5 minutes at 180 degrees Celsius. Especially if you find raw garlic to be too acrid for your palate.



Serve them hot off the grill. Gobble down a couple. Brush your teeth AND have a breath-mint. Good to go.

Trysts in the rain.

I know I haven't blogged in a while. My day job is famous for its crappy hours, pitiful pay and hard work the likes of which will only make us sicker than the patients we treat. And to get there, you have a fun (!) obstacle course in the form of the Post-Graduate Entrance Exams. Think TNPCEE times 100. IIT-JEE times 20. USMLE times 10. The only thing I can say about it is that it's a joke, and it's over. Whee.

I've hit the kitchen with the vengeance (how I wish I could say the same about my EFX). The backlog of places I've eaten at keeps growing. It's going to be an interesting week here. Get ready for plenty of Mmms.

I must be out of my mind for posting this on a Tuesday. ECR is reserved for the weekends (for most people), no? Before you get to your destination, ECR can be a little 80's looking; more rural than suburban. And the rain might force you to stop driving. Worse, you may not have eaten in two whole hours. Somewhere I'd recommend you to stop is at Tryst Cafe at Neelankarai.

A Gatsby iniative, Tryst Cafe is tucked away at a nook behind the store. Walking in (running in, actually, seeking refuge from the rain), I couldn't help letting out a little self-pleased "Oooh!" I love discovering new places that are good; how rare those instances are.

The cafe is lit up softly, furnished classy-without-being-posh-ly (they also sell furniture in another cranny of Gatsbyland) and has a couple of counter-tops with amazing, AMAZING looking pastry. Cakes, macarons (macarons at Madras!), mille-feuille, baguettes, all of them French and formidable, lest you call them a bakery. This is a patisserie if there could be such a thing at Madras.

And while being surrounded by pastry is the best possible (and sometimes the only) way to be, we chose to sit out in the rain. Rain, in Madras, sometimes even trumps chocolate. At least, it did before the Freakish Astonishing Winter/Monsoon of 2010. See for yourself.

That's the view from where we sat. Omar Sait, a part of the Gatsby family, happened to be at the cafe that day, and he very kindly obliged, setting up a little sidewalk-style table. "You can't expect everybody to pander to your whims," W complained. Well, it was my birthday weekend. Enough said.

Birthday weekend it being, I'd overindulged in cake(tiramisu!); cake instead of breakfast, cake at 3:00 AM, and plenty of times in between. The rain demanded hearty, hot food with the obligatory mug of coffee.

The burger we had was called the Nawabi burger; an amazing concoction of galouti-type lamb kebab, with a side of THE best wedges I've had here. When you have lamb mince instead of a cutlet as a burger patty, you thank God for small mercies. Especially when they're served with wedges that are chunky, have a crisp skin outside and are tossed in grains of salt. It cost either 120 or 140 bucks. I would have paid more, sans complaints.

The baguette sandwich was a chicken Caesar salad stuffed between an in-house baked loaf of french bread. Chunks of tender chicken and the lettuce I loved, the crusty bread worth becoming fat for, but the mayonnaise overload, eh. Mayo-fiends would give it a double thumbs-up I'm sure, but it's not easy to convert a buttermilk-ranch girl.

And the coffee. I'm from Madras. We don't serve bad coffee even to our 'til-death enemies. We are who we are, and all that.

The coffee I had there, I'd gladly serve to all the lovely people who visit and say the nicest things about the blog (and I didn't even have to pay them in food!). It did all the things a good brew does on a rainy evening. Strong, scalding, the bitterness cut with a little swirl of chocolate sauce. I only said I was tired of cake.

I haven't been to the Gatsby patisserie opposite Citi Centre, on R.K.Salai, but a visit is in order; those Parisian macarons look divine. But if it's a tryst that needs to work in your favour, summon the rain gods and drive down the East Coast.

The PastaBar Veneto.

Alsa Mall is a stone’s throw from where I live. I’ve heard stories about how it was incredibly hip (think Spencer Plaza, 2003-ish) back in the nineties from my parents. There really hasn’t been a reason for me to go there, except when I grab a sandwich at Balaji Sandwich stall (the little sandwich stall outside which makes a mean chilli cheese toast).

Foodie partner, who loves his Italian food, insisted we try The Pasta Bar Veneto. After the terrors of "Italian" food at New Yorker and Pizza Hut, I was extremely hesitant. After a promise that we’d walk out if the "marinara" was made without onion/garlic (ha ha ha), we went there on a rainy Thursday evening.

The second we entered, most of my fears were washed away (with the rain, get it? So punny. Not). The restaurant has the feel of a cozy little coffee shop. Completely unpretentious. Green painted doors, soft yellow lighting, huge glass cookie jars and a blackboard with specials written on it. Perfect for date night. Foodie partner also liked that they play Premier League football on their TV set; there goes date night.

So the next thing I was worried about was being fleeced. Being charged exorbitantly for both lousy food and bad service is too much to take, and an all too familiar feeling. The last of my fears disappeared when I opened the menu.
The first thing that strikes you is that the coffee section is very reasonable, the antipasti and sandwiches reasonable, and that it is open all day (11 AM to 11 PM, I think). I like it already! We ordered a soup, pasta and a chicken steak; all tests of a good Italian restaurant.

The soup was a little bit disappointing. I wanted a full-bodied minestrone brimming with veg, the tomato paste smacking you with the first sip. This was a little watery for me; I like my soup to suffice as a meal. But as a clear soup, it was pretty decent, had parmesan on top and buttery garlic bread on the side. I hoped the grilled chicken would make up for it.

And did it! A plate that was tailor-made for me. Succulent chicken breast, marinated with just enough spice, sitting on a bed of garlicky mashed potato. The veggies were steamed to perfection, and weren’t just there as garnish. Crusty garlic bread was also offered. For the ambience and taste, worth the 200 bucks you pay for it!

Foodie partner (let’s call him W) loved his pasta (?Penne Arrabiata). Cooked al dente, simmering in tomato sauce, flecked with chilli flakes, herbs and minced meat. Oh, with the omnipresent garlic bread (not complaining!)

We were stuffed, but decided to split a dessert. We chose the Caramel Cheesecake. Light, velvety and a perfect ending. Next time, I’m going to insist on a dessert with chocolate, though!

 The staff was pleasant, helpful and was sweet enough to show me their kitchen (which was well-maintained and replete with all the fun tools I want!).
So.
Report card:
Service: 4 stars
Ambience: 3-1/2 stars
Paisa vasool: 4 stars
Taste: 3-1/2 stars.PastaBar Veneto has two locations: one on Alsa Mall on Montieth Road, and the other on Burkitt Road, T. Nagar.