Hungry in Bangalore: Ayda Persian Kitchen & Ibaco Ice Cream

 OK before I start, I had written down all the things below nice and fine and wasnt going to add this part cause its not pleasant or nice, but I need to warn people of this place. 15 mins after reaching home for dinner, I had to answer natures calls which gradually turned to screams.Ditto for Chandu. Thank god we have 2 loos in the house. We suspect it was the 'Doogh' which we had- which is a spiced minty thick buttermilk very nice and refreshing AND a potent drain cleaner. Heres a pic of us having it and my expression displays the strong taste of that stuff.

Last week I was pleasantly surprised to see this new restaurant called Ayda Persian Kitchen in BDA complex Banashankari. The place has becoming a truly happening place for South Bangalore. With many new places, many of them ice cream shops, having a foreign cuisine opened up in this part of town is exciting.

From the outside it just looks like it dosent want to be found. Almost as if it wants to exclusively cater to Iranians. A faded board declares the location but black tinted windows and nothing else going on in the attract customers department. So its easy to miss.

But if its new and different I cant wait to try. As soon as we enter the waiter informs me in Kannada - Its not spicy. Whatever dude. Its me, Chandu and Uma for this dinner. The interior is all wooden, yellow lighting and Irani TV showing Ajay Devgan movie - Hindustan Ki Kasam dubbed in Farsi. The walls have posters of erstwhile Irani movie posters, judging by the skimpy clothes in the posters seemed to be pre-revolution. Place is not crowded, just a few customers who were all Iranis or seemed like Iranis.

We started with Hummus and Naan. I had Hummus twice before but this was way way better. Nice and creamy with nice balance of garlic which went well with the Naan. We ordered the Joojeh Kabab basically chicken kabab served with saffron rice, butter and some vegetables. The chicken is mildly spiced (for us Indians atleast) and the rice is just wonderful. The portions are massive so expect huge quantities. The Hummus is deceptively filling so after a few bites assess your situation.

Its a nice place to taste some variety in stuff, but really things arent that different from the usual Mughlai fare. Its easy to get confused and disappointed, but there is more stuff to try. So we called it quits for then and had the 'Doogh' which is a nice thick minty buttermilk. I have mentioned it in the starting Para.

For desert we had to try one of the many new Ice Cream shops in the area. We headed to Ibaco which is a nice new concept for an ice cream parlour. You pay 50 bucks per 100 grams. So you can go crazy with ice cream, toppings and sauce combos all within your price range. And the ice creams are really really good. Wonderful flavors which are very different from the original. Even the Vanilla is different and really nice and we had a tough time to decide which ones to have from amongst all the samples they let me have. I had the peach and strawberry with mango sauce and it was just super. Not too sweet and very flavorful. The textures and flavors are beautifully balanced. I am definitely coming back for more from this place.

Trouble (Gadbad) Icecream

Circa 1975 Mangalore, India, a guy behind the ice cream counter got really angry. A customer wasnt very happy with his ice cream perhaps. He demanded more. A very customer fat. Someone who wants a meal out of an ice cream. Pissing off the ice cream guy was perhaps a bad mistake.

But since, ice cream guys dont carry knives, he tried to do it with ice cream. 'You want special ice cream ehh. Let me shovel whatever sweet stuff I can find in the shop. A wheelbarrow of ice cream, a bucket of nuts, semi solid fruit salad thingy and drench the damn thing with syrup of three kinds. I hope you get a diabetic attack or brain damage.' And so the Gadbad Ice Cream was invented.

Post workout meals should be good enough to replace, refuel and build. So after a sumptuous honey glazed chicken dinner at Casablanca cafe located at the BSK BDA complex area, my aching muscles still craved sustenance. Time for a falooda.I walked into the SLV swadishta which has desserts good enough to rival Baskin robins just a few metres away all at a quarter of the price and none of the pretentiousness. The dessert chemist at SLV swadishta was all out of ingredients for a Falooda. 'You look hungry, how about a Gadbad' he suggested.


Long story short more of a meal less of a simple ice cream. Well thank god I didnt suffer any diabetic attacks.

Going back - Battle of the Balloons

To get better at writing I did the best thing lately, I joined the writers meetup club and I was just amazed at the increase in output and quality of my writing. I guess some of the talent there is rubbing off.

So this week the theme was Memoir, I shuddered - what do I write a memoir about, didnt do much and always think I havent lived much to write about. But I was surprised the way the session was conducted. At the end of one exercise I was able to type out a pretty decent piece in 15 mins. So here is a story from my childhood.

Battle of the Balloons

 

They had messed with us again and they shall do so for the last time. It was time for retaliation. Boundaries would not be honored. Truce cannot be called now. This chance comes only once a year. Its school holiday and tomorrow I shall be barely recognizable. The colors don’t wash off so soon and knowing what my enemy is usually up to they wont wash off for weeks.

This was the usual saga of Holi. It happens each year on the last day of Holi when they burn the holy fire, when our parents aren’t minding us, we boys would unite for war with the neighboring housing complex– it was my camp Pritisangam Society versus Sidhharudha housing society. It was a healthy hearty and sometimes stupid contest which involved balloons and water guns filled with water mixed with an assortment of things I don’t wish to recollect.

Located in Borivali west locality of Mumbai, my apartment complex like many others in Mumbai were like tiny kingdoms. Each complex had its cultures and values. The camaraderie amongst the citizens of these kingdoms was truly awesome and the sense of community was very warm and conducive for a good upbringing.  If your parents didn’t correct you for doing something wrong, damn sure your neighbors will. They had the rights and it was their duty to do so

Back to the war. I was the leader of the young runts, which was a great responsibility.  My counterpart was Pratik a portly gentleman who had difficulty pronouncing the R’s. We shared one boundary wall along our compound with the enemy, interrupted by tall ashoka trees. We would take our positions along this wall and would subject any intruder with merciless dousing of the liquid which used to be plain water followed by dragging them in a mud pool and finally marching them back through the compound gates. The seniors would ignore us as they were more interested in checking out the opposite sex from the other compounds.

There would be a final attack, there has to be. It was already 10 pm and due time for Mom to come grab me by my collar. Finally the attack came. I was expecting it. Pratik should have read Sun Tzu’s works. The advantages of higher reaches in a battle. We were perched on the boundary wall hidden behind the Ashoka trees. We rained down the attackers with a barrage of water balloons and a secret weapon wielded by my lieutenant Bullya, tough plastic bags filled with water which were more like maces than bags. They were caught by surprise and capitulated immediately back to their camp.

The skirmish was ended with a sudden sirenous screech of Pratik’s Mom to call him back home or have his bottoms rapped again, who I figured out that day could also not pronounce her R’s