B’lore’s military hotels: feasting on nostalgia

B’lore’s military hotels: feasting on nostalgia
Over the last half a millennium Bangalore has feasted on the heady aromas and heavenly flavours of many a kitchen. They’ve detonated softly like poignant larders, redolent with cloves, cardamom, exotic herbs and spices, garam masala, sautéing onions, garlic, and wood fire as rulers and the ruled joyfully threw themselves on the variegated fare.

The gastronomic influences of Kempe Gowda, the Maharastrian leader Shaji Bhonsle, the austere Moghul emperor Aurangazeb, the Wodeyars, Hyder Ali and Tipu Sultan, the East India Company, and later the British Crown, have resulted in eclectic army of cooks and culinary experts fashioning a variety of dishes using local produce with time-honoured recipes. With aplomb, they served meals that delightfully blended tradition with occasion.

The royalty and the upper classes had their preferences, nuances and style. The significant ‘others’ — merchants, craftsmen, vendors from North Arcot, Madras, AP and other areas, soldiers, Persian and Arab horse traders, Jews, Brits — that formed the core of Bangalore Civil and Military station, and the peta or the City, had their own hardy kitchen ideas which often impinged on each other to form a delicious fusion cuisine.

With this motley congregation at work in the kitchen, one could expect enticing aromas to get salivary juices up and running. For there was the scent of steaming rice and sambars redolent with tamarind and asafoetida, spiced vegetables, and crispies frying in kadais, and the heavenly aroma of filter coffee from traditional southern homes or the exhilarating flavours of meats with tejpatta (Bay leaves), freshly ground pudina, kothmir and green chillies from ‘non-veg’ homes.

To that, in time, came ‘foreign’ flavours — the enticing aromas of baking bread, pastry — of vanilla, nutmeg, and frying of eggs and cutlets.

Bangalore’s culinary diversity constantly kept evolving and expanding as people increasingly ate out and diners became adventurous in their choice of food. Many orthodox families sampled new fare using unfamiliar ‘English’ vegetables — potato, tomato, peas, cauliflower and such. On the other, the English found joy in cooking with an overwhelming array of local herbs and spices.

In the 19th century when visitors came to the City, it was the tradition in old Bangalore to offer free shelter and food at dharmashalas and choultries. With increasing arrivals, it wasn’t long before roadside sale of snacks turned into formal restaurants. In the late 1800s, Bangalore saw the mushrooming of eateries — particularly around the Fort area. The first non-Brahmin hotel came up in 1920.

In time, eateries that served lamb and chicken but not beef or pork qualified as ‘Hindu Military Hotels’. Though they did not have lodging or boarding, the nomenclature stuck. The ‘military’ tag suggested a protein rich diet — the food of the robust kshathiraya or warrior class. Framed pictures of deities with lighted incense sticks and oil lamp ensured the place was indeed, ‘Hindu’.

‘Military hotels’ that sprung up in those early days often were hugely popular even without as much as a decent name board. Fame spread by word of mouth or the appetizing aromas of cooking.

It was the time when customers left their footwear outside the eateries, washed their feet and hands at nearby tap or well, before settling down on the floor, on reed mats or wooden boards to ‘take’ their meals. Food was served on round reed-knitted dry istri leaves, payasam in dhonnays, (cups made of the same dried leaves). Steaming hot biryani, curries and side dishes were served from metal patrays and buckets. After rice-rasam and rice-curds, meals ended with yelaki bananas and paan. All food was cooked on wood fire and had a ‘smoky, homely’ flavour.

In the 70s, there were several popular eateries. The Naidu Military Hotel in Balepet and Ramaswamy’s in Quadrant Circle near the old Palace Theatre and Seppings Road, for example attracted droves of diners. There were other more formal ‘military hotels’ that had bars. Lobo’s on Central Street turned out superb coastal fare and vindaloo.

The 70-year old Dewars on Cockburn Road, near the Cantt. station, noted for its consistently tasty and inexpensive ‘Hindu military’ dishes has been popular with many generations. Its cane furniture in the main hall is as much a hallmark of the place as are the pictures of Queen Elizabeth and the royal family behind the bar counter, sharing revered space with a pantheon of Hindu deities.

Today the City offers an impressive range of time-honoured cuisine served in modest to plush upscale settings. From upper Karnataka — jolatha rotis, akki rotis and such to coastal delicacies of the Malnad and Konkan region — kori roti, iddiappams, gussy, seafood, sorpotels, vindaloos and xacuti. Perennial favourites of the maidan area — ragi mudde, idli, dosa and rice are often served with non-veg side dishes and curries in ambiences that have shiny brass lamps, wooden pillars and the fragrance of fresh jaji, gundu and sooji mali.

Has the ‘fine dining’, international cuisine, hep new cafés and the dining culture of the hi-tech megapolis pushed the good old ‘Hindu military hotels’ in their original form, style and nostalgic history to obscure parts of the City if not dustbin of history? Take a second look. Just about everywhere in the city, like pizza-delivery boys, two-wheelers riders with hot cases make home deliveries of biryanis. Glitzy neon-lit restaurants with veena music put out traditional spicy hot meals prompting the question: Is this the new avatar of the old Bangalore Hindu Military Hotel?