A very good day to you, dear reader. I hope this missive finds you in the pink of health, with birds chirping away on the tree outside your window.
I hope you have taken the day off, and are relaxing with your third cup of chai, settling down to a long, languorous day of doing nothing. In other words, I wish you the very best in life.
And the reason you find me in so benevolent a mood, and so sunny a disposition, is because I am in Ahmedabad as I type these words.
Explanation, I believe, is in order.
This is the first time I am in this city. I have been to various parts of the country, but never to Gujarat, and never to Ahmedabad. And as you know all too well by now, when I travel, I eat. And given that I was to land yesterday evening, I spent most of yesterday planning where to have my meals.
And the more I researched, the more I came to the conclusion that at least one meal must be had a place called Agashiye. And so it was the case that Kulkarni stepped out of the plane at 10 in the evening, stepped into a cab, and bade the man to drive without rest or respite to the restaurant.
The rates, I must clarify, bring a tear to the Puneri eye.
They were offering a discount if you sat down for a late dinner, and the bill post the discount came to a apoplexy causing one thousand rupees, give or take. And this, let me remind you, was a vegetarian meal.
But, dear reader, it was well worth the money and then some more.
For my money, Maharaja Bhog in Pune offers the best thali one can have in that city. And it is, all things considered, pretty good. But that thali, I now realize, is Judwaa compared to the Godfather that is Agashiye. They are not, a chastened Kulkarni now realizes, in the same league.
For about one glorious hour that commenced at 10.45 in the evening and went on until well near midnight, your columnist experienced a moving smorgasbord of food that transcended any vegetarian meal he has ever had before. It wasn’t just the variety, although that alone was mind boggling. More, it was the quality of the food, and the attention to detail given to each individual component.
And now, the coup de grace, and words I never thought I’d say.
In my humble opinion, they could have taken the rest of the meal away, and left me with just the bhakri and the white butter. It was soft, malleable in the middle, and pleasantly crispy on the outside.
It had a hint of heat, but was otherwise mildly sweet on the palate. Paired with the white butter, it rose to heights otherwise occupied only by the likes of Shakespeare, Michelangelo and Beethoven.
If you come to this city, dear reader, do take the time to go to Agashiye. And if you do go to Agashiye, dear reader, do not have less than five bhakris. For that, I am proud to say, is exactly what I did.
#All views expressed in this column are the authors and Pune365 does not necessarily subscribe to them.
He doesn't expect the paradox to be resolved in his lifetime
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