Bring On The Thali

There are many things unique about our cuisine and one of them is the thaali. The word plate doesn’t do justice to the thaali – a gigantic steel tray with a smorgasbord of tiny bowls, each holding a tantalizing promise. You gleefully rub your hands, dying to dip your fingers in the glistening curries just to get a taste. You find out much toyour dismay, not all of them are lip-smacking, you screw your nose and put away the offending bowls. And then you brace yourself for the non-stop indulgence. The constant buzz of the attendants, imploring you to eat some more, insisting you are such a frugal eater. Then out of nowhere someone gives you an extra helping of rice, some more curries, you are now cursing your snug fit jeans and wheezing with exhaustion.

Has anyone of you been to the Andhra Bhawan canteen for their thali? This no frills, Udipi style restaurant has an epic following and finds a mention in Frommer’s travel guide. My first visit was aeons ago, as a newly-wed. The husband was way more compliant back then, ready to indulge the whims and fancies of his brand new wife. I have a faint recollection of that place, but what I distinctly remember is the taste- furiously spicy (the one that makes your nose runny) and delectably delicious. The husband’s delicate palate didn’t share my feelings of ecstasy though. Ever since our fiery experience, he has refused to even look at that direction despite my many entreaties. Not the type who gives up easily, I finally managed another trip nineteen years later, this time with my 16 year daughter and a close friend of mine.



The first thing you notice about the place is the mass of humanity determinedly walking towards the canteen. You realize, nearly the whole world seems to share your love for the Andhra thali. You bravely overcome your fear of crowds, the promise of a good meal being the overpowering emotion. Thankfully one doesn’t have to play musical chairs to get seated- there is a token system that takes care of it. The service is very no-nonsense, but brisk and you can forget about …Madam, you hardly eat...entreaties. They couldn’t be less bothered. The attendant literally bangs the pre plated thaali on your table. My eyes literally lit up at the array of mean-looking curries – a selection of sambhar, rasam, veggies and two non-veg dishes. The word ‘hot’ gets redefined at the Andhra Bhawan canteen. We literally collapsed half way through and had to swig cola to battle the fiery assault. But the meal is scrumptious, even a food snob like my daughter gave it a hearty thumbs up. She was a trifle disappointed though at the lack of cool guys to check out in the vicinity. Nopes, not a single dishy looking guy – even the Mum agreed. We could barely finish our meal and I walked out swaying like a drunk, a big grin pasted on my face. Yes, it is possible to get high on Rasam and all things zesty.

I have a weak spot for the Gujarati thali they serve at Rajdhani as well. Thankfully I don’t have to wait nineteen years between each visit, even though it’s just me in the Ray family who is gushy about this eatery. Every time we go to the mall I look wistfully in the direction of Rajdhani and start walking towards the restaurant as if in a trance. Baby Ray and Papa Ray exchange meaningful glances and shake their heads in mock dismay. Once in a while they do succumb or perhaps my imploring puppy look gets too much for them to bear.




Image courtesy - trekearth.com

What to do, I can’t help but love their delectable savories, the simple vegetarian fare and an assortment of karhis. And what makes the experience unique is their selection of fresh-from-the-tawa mini rotis. But that doesn’t mean I adhere to their stuff yourself to the gills motto. During the meal my hand is mostly over my thali moving in clockwise and anticlockwise direction. And if that doesn’t work I resort to a loud, emphatic nahiiin much to the amusement of the attendants. It always works- the ladles of ghee disappear magically.

It’s not as if all my experiences with the thali have been divine – some of them have been gastronomic disasters. Like the Hyderabadi thali I had in Agra in a much recommended restaurant…under salted and unspiced to suit the firang palate yet floating in kilos of oil. After my last trip to Rajasthan and having nothing but ker sangri and gatte ki sabzi I’ve sworn off Rajasthani cuisine. I steer clear of the North Indian version with its mandatory shahi paneer and dal makhani. Despite my many years in Delhi I have a special aversion to the dairy-fat fixated North Indian cuisine.

Yet it is these thalis that bring out the earthy taste of Indian cuisine. A cornucopia of delights, it’s easy on your pocket and is truly the aam admi’s meal. And for me is not just a meal but an experience that represents the true essence of our country - chaotic as hell, diverse yet immensely satisfying.