Tiffin Room Tales...

I’m sure most of you have heard of the acronym MTR. Yes, the brand of ready to eat traditional south Indian foods and snacks. Most of you probably also know that MTR began as a restaurant – Mavalli Tiffin Rooms (a “tiffin room” being a canteen or restaurant for “tiffin” - breakfast or other traditional fast food meals). In this post I will be referring to MTR, the restaurant, which was founded in 1924 in Bangalore, and still stands in the same spot, within the same four walls. 

It is a known fact that MTR is a South Indian treasure, and has been covered by several food and travel publications including the Lonely Planet. It has fed several notable people, including one Chief Minister of Karnataka, who allegedly stood in line outside the restaurant to have its fabulous masala dosa.

Now I will sheepishly admit, that of the 18 years I have been on this planet, 17 have been spent in Bangalore, the city that houses this gem, yet, last weekend was the first time I set foot into Mavalli Tiffin Rooms. I know, it’s shameful and I should probably be written off from being a “true Bangalorean”!

I will try to give meek excuses, such as, it is sooo far away, or, one often takes for granted the treasures that are in one's own city, etc., etc... And you will continue to shake your head with disappointment. So let me just skip ahead and tell you the story.

Sunday had been planned as a family outing to Lalbagh Botanical Garden with lunch at MTR. We decided to have lunch first.

The old MTR building has hardly been modified in decades. It still has ancient floor tiles, lovely red oxide walls, and old iron window grills with the letters MTR welded in. Despite decades of fame, the restaurant has retained the same simple furniture, staff uniforms and utensils, avoiding unnecessary frills. It is committed to serving traditional, hearty, South Indian Brahmin fare. And the resultant old-world charm is an added pleasure!

An old picture of the waiting rooms as seen on Wikipedia

The waiting rooms today: hardly anything has changed!

We entered the restaurant, were given a token number and asked to wait in line. Our number was 128! We were ushered up to the first floor, where I could see a sea of people who were all either waiting for a table or scrambling to get to theirs before it was given away to the next in group in line. I had never seen so many people inside a restaurant. I could barely see the other wall of the room! Once we managed to wriggle into the room I learned that this room and the one just beyond it, which together made up half of the first floor, were only just the waiting rooms!

The crowd

Finally, it was our turn!  We excitedly found our way into a room that was originally the “Coffee Room” – for those who just wanted a quick coffee, or perhaps a “by-two” (one coffee split between two people). While waiting for our “meals”, (aka thaali in North India) my cousin and I went and asked the manager if we could take a peep into the kitchen that cooks the world-famous food. After a little hesitation on account of lunch-hour rush, he agreed.

  

We were led through a large open door into the kitchen area. As soon as we stepped in we could feel the heat. There were about 5 rooms that made up the kitchen on the ground floor alone - the vegetable storeroom, the grinding room in which large mechanized stone-grinders made chutney and dosa batter, the outer kitchen room in which large pots of food were being prepared, and two inner rooms in which water was being boiled, and dosas were being made at the rate of about twenty-four every five minutes! In there was also the largest coffee decoction filter I have ever laid eyes on. 

The grinding room

The outer kitchen room

Dosas being dished out, 12 at a time!

The largest coffee decoction filter I've ever seen!

By size, it was not one of the largest kitchens I had seen, (the Gurudwara in Ulsoor has one at least three times as huge!) but considering the number of people it feeds in a day, the speed and intensity with which food is prepared in the MTR kitchen must be phenomenal!

Now it was finally time to eat. We were served a range of dishes that make up a traditional Udupi Brahmin meal – dosa, chutney, potato saagu, carrot and coriander salad, payasam, coconut barfi… And then came the rice, the center of a South Indian meal; there was bisi bele bhaat served with mosru-bajji (raita) and mini papads, rasam-rice, and finally curd rice! As if one serving of all this were too little, we were offered seconds and thirds and fourths, if we liked! Like true Indian hosts the servers insisted, "Have some more, ma! At least take a little"! When someone feeds you with such genuine enthusiasm the joy of a meal is so much more!

As we say in Bangalore, "thulping" on the fantastic meal!

After enjoying that huge, delicious meal we just sat there for ten minutes, marinating in satisfaction, and repeating, “Wah!”! By this time the kitchen had closed for the afternoon. The wooden double door that served as the front entrance to the building had been shut, so all the guests were asked to leave from the back door, through the kitchen. What I really appreciated was there was no embarrassment or shame in having guests walk through their kitchen, nor in asking them to leave from the back door. This really reinstated their open, welcoming and homely approach. In fact, for several years guests entered the restaurant through the kitchen so they were assured of the cleanliness of the food preparation.

It was a fabulous experience! To merely call it a good South Indian meal would be a criminal understatement!

Fun fact:
MTR's packaged food and spice mix line has become so popular the world over for South Indian food, among homesick Indians and others alike, that in 2007 it was bought over by Norwegian company called Orkla for $100 million (Rs. 450 crores)! The original owners then began the restaurant chain called Maiya's.