These eateries have been resilient to times, globalization, and a transition now, despite – or perhaps, because of, their reluctance to change.
mtr
since 1924
For an eatery nearly a century old, it is remarkable to hear from its third-generation co-owner, Hemamalini Maiya, that it only closed shop once before the pandemic. “During the Emergency, the government fixed prices, which were not sustainable. So, we used to put up a board that read, ‘Loss for the day’,” she recalls. It was a sarcastic but indirect protest.
Mavalli Tiffin Room (MTR) has survived many political upheavals, protests, a global war and now a pandemic.
Maya attributes the longevity of the brand to its adherence to tradition. “It’s a nostalgic brand. When someone from Bangalore enters MTR, there are memories attached to it. They don’t see that much has changed. It’s the same kitchen, the same floor, most of the kitchen staff are very much there. are old. The formulas and recipes haven’t changed. So they see a continuity of things. For outsiders and new customers, each branch has boards describing the history of MTR.”
But certainly a lot has changed in MTR. For example, the process of cooking. “It is no longer easy to find intuitive chefs who know the right amount of ingredients. And, with more branches now, we have to be consistent. Therefore, we have centralized our condiments. A standardized set is taught,” says Maia.
However, these changes are not clear. For some of the older generation in Bengaluru, MTR is a part of daily life. Without a cup of coffee and a plate of idli, they find something wrong.
Maya says this routine is slowly resuming. “Thankfully, we got crossed by two waves. Hopefully, we don’t see another.”
Lakeview Borough
since 1930
Nostalgia surrounds Anish Wakharia when he shares his early memories of the Lakeview Milk Bar, which he now runs with his mother Kalpana. His mind goes back to the early 90s. He rarely went home after school. His father, Deepak, used to take him to the main branch of MG Road – a quiet, crowded, metro-free MG Road, which now exists only in photographs and memories of Bangaloreans belonging to Anish’s generation and who preceded him. are of.
Lakeview was started by James Meadow Charles in 1930. When India became independent, the British sold that place to 19-year-old Gujarati Vrajlal Jamnadas. In 2001, his son Deepak took over the business. Since his demise in 2011, Anish and his mother have been taking care of it.
All these years, the ice cream parlor never closed for a long time. Until the pandemic, that is. “For the first time in ninety years! It was strange. Things were uncertain,” says Anish, “Business, at that time, was not a top priority. We wanted everyone to be safe. But we did the first lockdown to ensure uninterrupted After reopened, our employees pay less.”
He sees some changes upon reopening. “There’s a lot of focus on cleanliness. Delivery has been quick. Elderly customers have dropped significantly. Due to the 9:30 pm curfew, we miss the post-dinner rush.”
Business is not the same as before. But Anish knows that it will gradually improve. Because, there are others like him in Bangalore for whom Lakeview was a part of his childhood.
student building
since 1943
The constant hustle and bustle of the crowd and the cramped space in the Vidyarthi Bhavan in Gandhi Bazar does not necessarily create a sense of awe when one eats there. But this restaurant, which is older than this country, is still in great demand. Its current owner, Arun Kumar Adiga, surprisingly learned that it is also pandemic resistant. “We are back to about 90 to 100% pre-COVID levels,” he says. “It was difficult to adjust to the new normal after the first lockdown. We made thermal scanning, sanitization and masks mandatory. Last year, we had also set up table partitions to make people feel safe. But after the second lockdown, people were seems to have adjusted.”
The restaurant gets around 1,000 customers on weekdays and over 1,500 on weekends. This year it increased even more during Ganesh Chaturthi. And, remember, eating in the student building is not easy. It is almost always full. You have to wait until your name is called.
Location may be a reason. After all, Gandhi Bazar is a bustling area. But then, not all the eateries there are as flourishing as Vidyarthi Bhavan.
Why, then, do people keep flocking to this decades-old modest eatery? Well, Vinay itself is a cause. The owners considered demolishing the old building to make it two-storey, rather than accommodating more people. But he abandoned the idea. “When I ask my customers why they come back to our restaurant, it’s not just the food, but their emotional connection with the place,” says Adiga. Hence, you’ll find the same marble-topped tables, Mangalore-tiled ceilings, blue-shirted waiters, and most of all, thick-yet-crisp Benne Dosa.
Koshi’s
since 1952
When Koshi reopened in October last year after the lockdown, historian Ramachandra Guha, one of the popular residents of Bengaluru, wrote about it in his column on The Telegraph. “I might die before my favorite cafe. I can probably (almost) live without music, cricket and even books, but it’s impossible to imagine life without parades.
The parade is because Guha and some of the Koshi patrons of his generation prefer to use its original name. PO Koshi, a Syrian Christian from Kerala, started a bakery in 1940. Twelve years later, it spread to a restaurant on St. Mark’s Road. Jawaharlal Nehru, Nikita Khrushchev and Queen Elizabeth II reportedly dined there.
Though most of its customers are from the upper or upper-middle class, the ambiance of the place is not serious, especially in its non-air-conditioned part. Santosh Koshi, who runs the place with his brother, Prem, says, “We started a jewel box, an AC dining area, for those who wanted a great meal. But many of them are fond of the noisy, non-air-conditioned portion. I used to call it the market too.” But he admits that people used to like a market-like discussion. For decades, it has been the meeting place for lawyers, academics, students, among others.
Due to its proximity to English media houses, Koshi is frequently visited by journalists as well. This is probably why there were so many reports and articles last year about the prolonged shutdown before it.
Koshy believes it will take at least two years for business to return to pre-pandemic levels. He feels that the patrons of his generation, who are in their 6s and 70s, are slowly fading away. But he is hopeful. “Some of our clients, who first moved here five-six years ago, are now young families. They bring their kids along. It’s nice to see the little ones appreciate this old place.”
single place
since 1965
Faraz Ahmed, the current owner of The Only Place, likes to count his blessings. His 56-year-old establishment has managed to survive a pandemic that has engulfed many businesses.
The restaurant, famous for its steaks on Museum Road, closes briefly before opening for takeaway. The demand for delivery was a revelation to Ahmed. “The steaks are the best at restaurants; if you pack them home, it won’t be as good. So, we haven’t really paid much attention to delivery. But we got a lot of orders during the pandemic,” he says Huh. They even sent their non-kitchen workers to the delivery, so they got paid instead of a third-party delivery app.
While tracking orders, Ahmed was also surprised at the extent of his customer base. “We had assumed that our customers were from Koramangala and Indiranagar. But we got orders from all parts of Bangalore, from Yelahanka to Jayanagar and JP Nagar, which I believed were hardcore vegetarian areas.”
Like other old restaurants in the city, The Only Place is reluctant to change. “When you have a heritage place like Koshi, MTR, or The Only Place, people don’t come for something new, they come for something that’s always been there,” says Ahmed. Ever ask me, ‘Why don’t you open a new place?’ I tell them, ‘Call it The Only Place. The name itself prevents me from doing that.'”
Airlines Hotel
since 1968
During the pandemic, except for a few days, people could eat their favorite dishes from restaurants as takeaways were allowed. But it’s not just about your food; It’s also about where you eat. And, this is especially true for places like the Airlines Hotel on LaValle Road. It was possible to order its Khara Bhaat and Udina Vada for breakfast. Its owner Diwakar Rao says that there has been a significant increase in deliveries compared to last year. But its old trees lost their canopy and consistency. Airlines Hotel’s USP is not its food; This is its atmosphere.
Airlines is the city’s first drive-in restaurant. Initially, it mainly served South Indian food. Then, it included North Indian food. Now, you also get pizza (from Pizza Stop), ice cream (from Corner House) and pastries on its premises. A brief idea was made to make their open dining area monsoon-proof. But its owner Diwakar Rao realized that this would have destroyed the restaurant’s identity.
“Open-air dining is what makes us stand out,” he says. This was also what used to lure customers to eat indoors after the lockdown. “Sometimes, they get a little too careless. And we have to request them to keep their distance and wear masks.”
But it did not take long for customers to return to the airlines after the lockdown. “Bangalore, and South India in general, cherish tradition and nostalgia. We keep seeing people who say, ‘My grandfather brought me here.'”
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