The responsible gypsy eats


There is a reason to the title of this post. It is becoming increasingly obvious to me that this site is far more about ranting than travelling. I’ve been wondering if it might not be a better idea to create another, possibly linked blog called the responsible gypsy rants and move all the non travel, non food related posts there? Maybe!

Anyway, this post is about the rather enjoyable Sunday we had. The boys are growing up and now that our weekends are not crazy messes of homework and nonstop cooking/feeding without the usual weekday help, we can think about some fun stuff. Also, in case the name of this blog and what I’ve put in the About section has not tipped you off, I am a bit eco friendly. What this means in the present case is that I abhor mall weekends. So our fun stuff is a bit different from what most friends and colleagues get up to.

My husband booked the kids in for some badminton at a club in Indiranagar. The club is called City nest and come to think of it, maybe a review would be worthwhile! The badminton courts certainly are well maintained enough to please my husband who is somewhat fastidious about these things.

The kids had a super time. The older one is getting to be a good player and made his dad run around the courts a bit. The younger one had skipped breakfast like his favourite Sher Simha who he simultaneously loves and learns nothing from. There is a small canteen on the premises but it had closed for lunch(!!!) and I had to forage for food. As it was drizzling, I had a pleasant walk by myself. The little one had biscuits to his heart’s content and played a bit to please his dad. We each enjoyed ourselves in our own way and left quite satisfied with a good day’s work.

For lunch we decided to try the German cafe at Max mueller Bhawan. There’s a reason for this as for everything. We’ve been living in Bangalore for donkeys years now(why are they called that though? Because donkeys’ ears are so long? Must look up!) and have heard about this place forever and had never been. I knew it was on CMH road but somehow assumed it was on the same side as the Metro and never felt like venturing out to those parts. CMH road has been on my work route for a while now, and I realized quite by accident that the cafe and MMB were on the hospital side of CMH road. I have been wanting to go there ever since.

Cafe Max, for such indeed is it’s name, is located on the terrace of the MMB. The windows are kept open except when it starts pouring and there are trees all around the building and a lovely breeze. You can see the neighnours’ terraces too and if you don’t mind the Sintex tanki view, the place has a nice old Bangalore feel to it.

About the food:

The difference in food tastes between my boys tells it’s own tale about styles of parenting. My folks had retired and moved to Bangalore by the time the younger one came along and he has been reared on his grandmother’s paruppu sadam and rasam and does not care much for restaurant food at all. He could in a pinch eat north indian food, but anything else is a no-go.
The older one on the other hand was raised by me using books as a guide. His first foods were stews and pastas off recipe books. It was a slightly unreal upbringing in the Indian context and he amazes me by not getting over it. What I am coming to is this. On that particular day I was craving Indian food and but for the older one would gladly have skipped Cafe Max. Once there, I was dismayed by what a LOT of european looking people there were. So the food was probably quite authentic.

And bland. My mom would have said uppu, kaaram unnu illame, kandraavi! I ate and liked but made a note to not return. My husband’s plate had an astonishingly segregated selection of carbs in the form of potatoes, protein represented by chicken and some salad doing duty as minerals and vitamins. No wonder Rujuta Diwekar is always on about Indian food wisdom and not classifying our food into buckets. I mean HOW would you classify kootu? Or bengali khichdi! Anyway, the younger one had a little pasta, some cake and said a firm “Enough”. The older one on the other hand finished his pasta, his brother’s, asked for a second helping and was stuffing himself astonishingly when I begged him to give his tummy a break and have it packed. He looked doubtful and correctly interpreting his hesitation, I promised him that none of us would touch any of it and even threw in what was left of my lunch as his takeaway and then he agreed.

So if you can figure out where you stand in the wide culinary sweep that is my family, you can decide whether you would like to visit Cafe Max!

They had some nice event posters up though so it might be worthwhile to drop in just for a coffee plus cake and make plans for your next outing!


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