Only Gents Not Allowed

When I was in Sitapur, Uttar Pradesh earlier this year, Nikhil and I ate most of our meals at dhabas. The dhaba is a mainstay of the Indian highway and nothing like it exists in the US. It is like a fast food joint without the brand name or the walls, like a gas station without the gas or the station. The dhaba is ubiquitous on all Indian highways, and all dhabas within a region serve the same food at the same price on the same plates. You could almost swear that the little boy (read: child labor) washing dishes back in Hargaon has teleported to Sidhauli to give you another roti when you really don’t want another roti. I miss the dhaba, because oddly enough, dhaba owners signed a blood oath not to set up shop within a 10-mile radius of my apartment. At least it sure feels that way. I ask everyone I meet if they know of any dhabas in the area, and they all say, yes yes it’s here, or, yes yes it’s there, but I check and it’s neither here nor there. It’s like a desert mirage, shimmering on the horizon, not just promising water but also mud floors, dim lights and Rs 30 thalis.

There is lots of street food on Boring Road, but it is mostly snack food: samosas, litti (a Bihari delicacy involving fried dough with chickpea-flour inside and served with chickpea gravy), roasted corn, pani poori (pani means “water” and poori means “stay away from me unless you have a stomach like an ox”). So when VA and I go out to eat, which happens almost every day or at least every other day, we avail ourselves of the surprising number of new restaurants serving Patna’s burgeoning upper class. Unlike the dhaba, which is unchanging in time and space, these restaurants are as different from one another as possible, and each one offers a feast for the eyes and, if you are willing to wait 45 minutes for your food, a feast for your tummy too. Here is a run-down (somebody tell Jim to take note) of some of our restaurant experiences over the past few weeks:

1) Roti – A solid choice and conveniently located a few blocks from our apartment. The Chilly Crispy Potatoes/Crispy Honey Potatoes/Potato Chilly Crisp/Sweet French Fries (every restaurant calls this dish something different and makes it a different way) are very good. Usually costs about Rs 100 per person with food left over, and until today, the service was quite prompt. One major big strike against them: they usually don’t have Fresh Lime Soda. What’s a restaurant without FLS, you might ask? Do they have any self-respect? How do they wake up in the morning and open the front doors without crawling back to the kitchen and curling up on the stove in shame? Well they do it, and they do it by offering the customer the sad choice between Fanta and Sprite and Limca.

2) Nirvana – Probably the best restaurant that we’ve been too yet. The ambience is pleasant, the staff is nice, and it is not too dim if you fight for light (they immediately turned the lights way down when we sat at our table, but after asking several times convinced them that not seeing our food was not an essential part of our dining experience). Plus they have the Sizzling Brownie for dessert, which despite burning my tongue, is the best dessert I’ve had in Patna. Double plus, a sign underneath the Hello Kitty balloon (absurd decorations are the norm in these restaurants) claims that the restaurant provides Free Wi-Fi, and is therefore the closest thing to a coffee shop within 367 miles (Kolkata). I discovered here that I like sweet lassi, a yogurt drink that can either come with sugar or salt or mixed (salt in beverages is very popular in India). I rang the gong twice while leaving and promised in the guest book that I would return soon, then upheld my promise by returning the following evening.

3) Sip N Dine – When you walk into the restaurant after being in the sun, it’s like entering a cave. You literally can’t see the host when he tells you to sit wherever you want. The menu is impressive but the food is not. The American Lasagna is more like Paneer Noodle Masala and the Aam Panna, as my underwhelmed (or maybe overwhelmed) friend described it, is like having an Indian railway station in your mouth. Although according to the Wikipedia article, this mango drink is just about the best substance you can put in your body – it is unclear if this claim is exaggerated. In any case, if the food doesn’t do it for you, the owners hope that the wall decorations with exotic overtones do. Not really sure why this is a theme in restaurants in this city…

4) The Not Om Vihar – If you read the TOI article in the last blog post, then you may recall Om Vihar, the restaurant raided by police on August 8^th for offering “kid couples” a sanctuary for their “risky adventures.” With the promise of so much excitement, we could hardly pass up the opportunity to track down and eat at this intriguing establishment. Unfortunately when we reached the restaurant, after walking several kilometers farther than expected, we found a smoky bar occupied by two shady men and no good-looking food or couples. So we went next door to the family restaurant that had some nondescript name and is most aptly referred to as the Not Om Vihar. This place was well-lit and busy, with pictures on the walls of European palaces and mansions. But I swear that I saw, behind the curtains that led to the kitchen, some separate tables that cater to the spillover crowd from Om Vihar, just trying to find a place where they won’t be caught in compromising positions.

5) The Sometimes Revolving Restaurant – Finally we made it! And to our dismay, it was definitely not revolving, at least no faster or slower than the Earth. But what made it extra cool was the reason that it wasn’t revolving: Lalu Prasad Yadav, the previous dictator of Bihar, was chowing-down with his cronies and a retinue of like 30 photographers a few tables over from us. This is a big deal in Patna. It would be like seeing George Bush at a restaurant, if Bush still held a lot of sway with the lower castes (err, conservatives), and if Bush were Obama’s main challenger in the next presidential elections. Lalu is the head of RJD, the main opposition party in Bihar, and was actual Chief Minister of the state in the 90’s and for-all-practical-purposes Chief Minister in the early 2000’s (he was in jail for corruption but was still calling the shots with his illiterate wife as figurehead CM). And to our utter disbelief, he had apparently told the restaurant manager to stop the rotation due to “security precautions.” Security precautions!?! What is he afraid of, falling off?

After Lalu left, the restaurant started rotating and we were treated to the sights of Patna from the top of the tallest building in the city, which are pretty minimal at night since power cuts make everything look black. Inside the restaurant we were treated to a jungle theme, with fake trees overhanging our table and fake birdsong in our ears. Now that we’ve experienced it, we probably won’t return, unless we want to impress visitors with Patna’s hottest new eatery.

The title of this post comes from a sign in one hotel restaurant in Ara that we visited last week during our field trip. Can you figure out what the author of this sign intended to convey? It had to be explained to me by Nikhil. The restaurant does admit men. The trick is to treat “Only” like an adjective, so that “Only Gents” would be better translated as “Men without their families.” In other words, this is a family restaurant, and the owners don’t want ruffians prowling about, trying to seduce grandmothers or the wait staff.