Have you noticed the dwindling frequency of reviews on the blog?
I'm naturally suspicious of all things new. I debate forhours days over a new brand of cocoa powder or hair conditioner. I double-glove up for every patient. Safe-and-boring trumps sorry-and-impulsive in my profession.
Which is why, on the rare nights that I do get to dine out, I'd rather go to a place where I know I'll love the food and ambiance instead of taking a chance.
I've been told that it's very narrow-minded, unadventurous, blah and the like. So with a few daring people in tow, I headed over to Amadora off Khader Nawaz Khan Road, a couple of days back. You should know that we fueled up on Falooda and Lime Mint coolers at Fruitshop beforehand, because one should always be prepared for disappointment/the worst.
Turns out my fears were unfounded. If there was disappointment, it was probably because the Salted Buttercream flavour (Fleur de Sel, how I love thee) had run out by the time we got there.
In a cacao-pod-shell, I found a place I'll be going back to. Possibly (hopefully) in the near future. How often do you hear me say that?
If there was a "Custom-made food in small quantities" fan club, I'd be the Admin/Moderator. Sorry to go all Bourdain on you, but if there is one food I'd never pay money to buy/eat, it'd be a close tie between mass-produced Chicken McNuggets or McDonald's creation for the Indian market: the Pizza Puff (please don't exist). If there was one cause I'd rally over, it would be to take those two things off the menu. If there's, if there's, if there's.
Made from Kaaveri coffee (Sarbs gets on a Tamilian kick each time she comes to Madras. Breakfast at Sangeetha, sandwiches at Alsa Mall, that type of thing). The ice cream is brilliant, rivalling the Espresso-bean ice cream you get at Escape.
If you're feeling particularly adventurous, you could have the Earl Grey Tea with Dark Chocolate Chunks. I stole a couple of chunks (sweet heaven) from Nigbe, but the ice-cream, per se, didn't make my tastebuds sing, you know? Reminded me too much of Jasmine rice/tea.
Nigbe loved it though... don't know if it's because I treated her to it and she felt obligated to say that she did. She finished it in five minutes flat and kept saying she wanted more at five-second intervals, so I'll leave you to infer.
W tasted every flavour, making all the right critic-y faces. He was torn between the Vanilla (specks-of-Vanilla alert!) and the Trifle-pudding flavour. He finally settled on the Trifle Pudding, because "he's Urdu Muslim and very proud of it." Or he knows those are the only flavours I wouldn't steal too much of. He firmly thinks he had the best and even turned down the routine half-cup flavour-swap.
Oh, and the place is pretty nice! Loved the jigsaw-shaped tabletops and the high bar/salon stools. Not sure if Mum and her 40+ posse would find it comfortable. Actually, not sure I'd find it comfortable 6 months from now if I continue eating at this dedicated momentum.
I must also mention that as soon as we entered, there was a waft of eggy-waffle-scented conditioned air... And due to bad experiences in the past, I chose to skip the cone. I'm an idiot. That was the smell of Summer (in an ideal world where powdery gloves, coconut oil, Local trains and spirit-cotton do not exist).
It was eggy-delicious; the cone had some body to it, instead of being a sad, flaky cone-ice cone. I really am an idiot. I'm glad that there aren't any toppings, because these aren't the type of ice-cream to drown under a blanket of hot fudge. Wouldn't complain if there's a Salted Caramel topping though!
If there's one teeny grouse, it would be to slightly increase the quantity or slightly reduce the price. But since I work with expensive ingredients a lot, I can understand and I've paid way more for way worse.
The whole thing left me feeling good, despite the hefty bill. This is my brand of food. Like it-Like it, respect it and feed it to those you love, hoping they'll love it (and you, back).
I'm crossing my fingers that it stays this way and that they come out with more brilliant flavours. You can easily see that every one of those flavours have been created and churned by people who know and are passionate about their food. Who treat their customers well and let you try as many fancy flavours as you want (but also are genuine enough to request you jokingly (?) to spare them the 25-paise each barely-used discarded spoon costs!)
Madras needs people like that, stat.
Almost as much as I need the chocolate ice-cream. STAT.
I'm naturally suspicious of all things new. I debate for
I've been told that it's very narrow-minded, unadventurous, blah and the like. So with a few daring people in tow, I headed over to Amadora off Khader Nawaz Khan Road, a couple of days back. You should know that we fueled up on Falooda and Lime Mint coolers at Fruitshop beforehand, because one should always be prepared for disappointment/the worst.
Turns out my fears were unfounded. If there was disappointment, it was probably because the Salted Buttercream flavour (Fleur de Sel, how I love thee) had run out by the time we got there.
 |
| Top row L-R: Sweet cream, Earl Grey, Strawberry (YUM!), Chocolate Bottom Row L-R: Lime Sorbet, Trifle Pudding, Stracciatella and other assorted Deliciousness. |
If there was a "Custom-made food in small quantities" fan club, I'd be the Admin/Moderator. Sorry to go all Bourdain on you, but if there is one food I'd never pay money to buy/eat, it'd be a close tie between mass-produced Chicken McNuggets or McDonald's creation for the Indian market: the Pizza Puff (please don't exist). If there was one cause I'd rally over, it would be to take those two things off the menu. If there's, if there's, if there's.
But. You don't even have to be that snooty to enjoy Amadora's ice cream. There's a Mami's Kapi flavour.
As History has dictated, I had the Chocolate flavour. Which annoyed the cousins and W a little bit, because how much more safe-boring-generic can one get?
I had the last laugh and the best flavour. The texture was a revelation! The mixture of milk and dark chocolate left me with the right amount of the chocolate high (Hi, I'm Rabia, and I'm a choco-holic). It was worth every last paisa of the 170 bucks I paid for a scoop. In saying that, I must add that half a scoop satiates even the most addicted of chocoholics (except hopeless cases. eg: me). I'll go so far as to say that I might cheat on Nutella with it.
Yeah. I said it, and I'm not taking it back.
Nigbe loved it though... don't know if it's because I treated her to it and she felt obligated to say that she did. She finished it in five minutes flat and kept saying she wanted more at five-second intervals, so I'll leave you to infer.
W tasted every flavour, making all the right critic-y faces. He was torn between the Vanilla (specks-of-Vanilla alert!) and the Trifle-pudding flavour. He finally settled on the Trifle Pudding, because "he's Urdu Muslim and very proud of it." Or he knows those are the only flavours I wouldn't steal too much of. He firmly thinks he had the best and even turned down the routine half-cup flavour-swap.
Oh, and the place is pretty nice! Loved the jigsaw-shaped tabletops and the high bar/salon stools. Not sure if Mum and her 40+ posse would find it comfortable. Actually, not sure I'd find it comfortable 6 months from now if I continue eating at this dedicated momentum.
I must also mention that as soon as we entered, there was a waft of eggy-waffle-scented conditioned air... And due to bad experiences in the past, I chose to skip the cone. I'm an idiot. That was the smell of Summer (in an ideal world where powdery gloves, coconut oil, Local trains and spirit-cotton do not exist).
It was eggy-delicious; the cone had some body to it, instead of being a sad, flaky cone-ice cone. I really am an idiot. I'm glad that there aren't any toppings, because these aren't the type of ice-cream to drown under a blanket of hot fudge. Wouldn't complain if there's a Salted Caramel topping though!
If there's one teeny grouse, it would be to slightly increase the quantity or slightly reduce the price. But since I work with expensive ingredients a lot, I can understand and I've paid way more for way worse.
The whole thing left me feeling good, despite the hefty bill. This is my brand of food. Like it-Like it, respect it and feed it to those you love, hoping they'll love it (and you, back).
I'm crossing my fingers that it stays this way and that they come out with more brilliant flavours. You can easily see that every one of those flavours have been created and churned by people who know and are passionate about their food. Who treat their customers well and let you try as many fancy flavours as you want (but also are genuine enough to request you jokingly (?) to spare them the 25-paise each barely-used discarded spoon costs!)
Madras needs people like that, stat.
Almost as much as I need the chocolate ice-cream. STAT.
The chocolate was truly the best. And I loved how warm the people were. It is the best thing about Madras.
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