Minakshie (Kewpie) Dasgupta�s Bangla Ranna - The Bengal Cookbook� is arguably the most popular guide to Bengal�s cuisine. I became inextricably linked with Bangla Ranna when I helped in the promotion of its second edition, in 1998. Kewpie was born into a family of great gourmets who also happened to be gifted cooks. From an early age, she was tutored in the traditions of Bengal�s cooking, the fine distinction between East Bengali food - infinitely more rich, varied and spicy - and the culinary tradition of the West, with its accent on all things sweet.

The success of the Bangla Ranna re-launch with its series of food events around town, set the family thinking. There was a real dearth of honest-to-goodness Bengali eateries that one could take visitors and guests to, so, why not translate the late Kewpie�s magic from the pages or Bangla Ranna to the table.

And that was the need which crystallised into a food boutique called Kewpie�s, situated on a quiet cul-de-sac in the heart of town. The cosy confines of Kewpie�s can seat just 14 people. The textured finish of the walls is interesting and flashes of flamboyant red punctuate the stark white with bravado. Once you sit down to a meal that invariably turns out to be finger-licking good, the lack of elbow space becomes a non-issue as most of us agreed.

There were seven of us. Redoubtable designer duo - siblings Mona Lamba and Pali Sachdev (of �Monapali� fame) on only their second visit, the petite and creative Gini Sen (a serious foodie who produces a Bengali glossy on food called Hanrir Khobor), suave tea man Prodosh Sen (who, at 58, can still give any younger man a run for his money, in the looks department, and had first eaten at Kewpie�s on jamai shashti - Bengal�s day for sons-in-law�), cricket commentator and journalist Kishore Bhimani (whose other passions would appear to be billiards and all matters equine), PR person and writer Rita Bhimani (whose stunning Kanjeevarams have all been chosen by husband Kishore), and me.

In the absence of the ever-congenial Mithu Dasgupta (the late Kewpie�s husband) we were joined by his daughter Pia Promina, who - along with sister Rakhi Purnima (my friend and classmate from the age of three) - is keeping alive their mother�s legendary culinary expertise. While Rakhi�s elaborate Thai spreads are unmatchable, Pia confines her genius to less exotic fare, even as she keeps innovating.

Her juhri mangsho (a dry, shredded mutton, cooked with sliced green chillies) is a personal favourite and she will always be special to me for having concocted a fusion dessert which she named after me. Pia�s �Oindrilla� is the softest of sponge rassogallas, filled with chocolate cream (only Pia can tell you how that is done) and coated with solid chocolate. And �Oindrilla� is available only on order, thank-you!

The Bengali meal is supposedly scientifically planned. It starts with the bitter shukto (at lunch) to keep the liver in good function, progresses from dal and vegetables - bland bhate or bhaja, spicy chhokka, chhenchki, dalna - and then on to fish, followed by the meat of the day. The chutney and papad clear the palate, while the sweet finale of mishti doi helps to settle the digestive tract, as does the paan, which aids digestion. Between us, we sampled a fair number of the above, with the characters of the �pot� paintings gracing the walls surveying the proceedings benignly.

We were served on a matching set of terracotta crockery, with the various items set in little bowls, around the edges of the plate. The entire set is discarded after each meal, which makes for re-assuring hygiene. In true blue Bong fashion, everyone dived into the gala spread with their hands. For a home-grown Bengali, licking the flavour off his fingers, after every course, imparts a piquancy to the enjoyment of the repast.

The notable exception to this time-honoured tradition was exercised by Kishore. He bemoaned the fact that Bengalis do not even provide the option of using cutlery. This simply was not cricket! While wife Rita decried his philistinism, Pia cried shame on him and took up cudgels for an intrinsic element in the appreciation of Bengali food.

The jhinge posto (sponge gourd with poppy seeds) and doi begun (aubergine cooked in curd) were an unqualified success, with Mona and Kishore testifying to their many sterling qualities. Rita delved into the mochar ghonto (made with flower of the banana tree) while expounding at length on the Bengali housewife�s single handed attempt at reviving the national economy.

Her abhorrence of waste often leads her to use every part of a fish or vegetable. For example, other than the banana flower, the pith of the banana plant - thhor - and the unripe banana - kanchkola are also used, as are the leaves - to wrap and steam vegetables and fish in. Gini found the potoler dolma (parwal stuffed with paneer) exactly to her taste. But it was the fish, from many families and in many avatars, which - by general consensus - walked away with the dinner honours.

Prodosh, who is into fish in a major way, approached the chingri malai curry (prawn, firm in texture and cooked in coconut milk) with reverence and revelled in the delights of bekti paturi (bekti with mustard smoked in banana leaves). Pali swore by the shorshe ilishe (tongue-tingling hilsa - the Bengali national passion - cooked in mustard) and the kakrar jhal (a dry and chilli hot crab which really sets the saliva sailing) which she attacked with both hands and teeth. Eyes and nose streaming, she mopped up every piece of crab going. In the midst of this fishy affair, Gini and I (not really being fish fans), relished every morsel of the lipsmacking kosha mangsho (the rich, spicy, home-grown mutton curry).

By the time the aamer chutney, papad, doi and mishti (sweets) came around, everyone was reeling under the impact of the meal. In fact, one of the common complaints about a Bengali meal is its elaborate nature. In its defence, it may be said that digestive disorders rarely occur. Almost everyone sampled the paan though it takes some getting used to. At the end, the general consensus was that repeat visits were very much in order but would have to be handled with personal restraint.