Adhi Potoba

During my primary school years my mother used to threaten me with taking me to lunch to a dreadful place by the name of Suvarnarekha Dining Hall on Prabhat Road. And rightfully so. People from the Deccan Area might be well accustomed to this sorry excuse for a restaurant. Owned by the Yenpure family, it was housed in one of those buildings where a permanent heap of construction material lies blocking the footpath. Suvarnarekha is one of the restaurants that serves only the thali. The menu for the day is a mystery till the plate of food is in front of you. So if you don’t like what you see on your plate, you’re S.O.L. The food was acceptable at best when I first visited the place in the 80s, but the quality has gone down as the price of a thali has gone up. I remember the ambience being the canteen-like and was only complimented with the hostile wait-staff that usually served you like they were doing you a favour. I am quite sure that it hasn’t changed and the mediocre food remains quit...

I grew up on Prabhat Road and our park was Kamla Nehru Park or KNP, as the college kids that order their chai "one by two" called it. My fondest memories bhel are outside the large iron gate of KNP. Bhola bhel was our "bhelwala". No real reason, that's just the guy my mother would take us to. A balding man on the wrong side of fifty with a pushcart and a permanent burnt umber complexion from making bhel under the scorching Indian sun. His pushcart had a hand painted board that advertised Bhola Bhel next to an anatomically questionable picture of Shankar . The glass containers that contained the papri and rice puffs were adorned with fading pictures of Bollywood stars whose star had faded decades ago. He cut onion really fine with a speed that would put the finest Waring chopper to shame. With a thick handle bar mustache and a cheery disposition he never failed to make serious small talk, even with his youngest customers. And for 70 Paise (in 1978) he would ...