Dakshin

ITC Grand Central

Text: Mohan Krishnan

Everyone from the South has this lingering grievance, that the rest of India lumps them under the umbrella term Madrasis. That’s the kind version.

Chef Prakash, chief evangelist and Assistant Master Chef of Dakshin restaurant at the ITC Grand Central in Parel, feels sad that the general perception of South Indian food stops at the holy trinity of dosai, idlis, and vadas. He proudly claims that you can’t find a trace of this trio on his menu, that spans six South Indian states – Tamil Nadu, Pondicherry (UT), AP, Telangana, Kerala and Karnataka.

My wife Mina and I first ate at Dakshin at the ITC Chola hotel in Chennai, in the late 1980s. It was, and continues to remain an unique concept – the cuisine from all the South Indian states under one roof. It was a fine-dining concept, not a food court, with a splendidly large a la carte menu. The waiters were kitted out with turbans and sashes, and the food rocked.

"At Dakshin, we follow the cuisine set out by our forefathers," starts off Chef Prakash. "The Ayurvedic philosophy is over 1000 years old, and is founded on the principle that food is not just about taste, it is about health, and also a mind-body balance. The simple rasam, with hing and black pepper, is a palate-opener. It activates all six of your tastes, stimulates your appetite, and later works as a digestive, to help your body absorb what you have eaten."

"We don’t use any butter, cheese, soy sauce or ajinomoto in the kitchen. These are used in other cuisines to give you the hit of umami, but these are flavours that drown out everything else."

"We use in modest quantities, ghee, gingelly oil and coconut oil. We fry our food with a very light touch, and don’t use batter that comes between you and the protein or vegetable."

Ultimately, the proof of the pudding is in the eating. It’s not what’s on the chef’s mind, but what he presents on the plate.

Dakshin at ITC Grand Central in Bombay offers six different thalis, including a ‘No onion, No garlic’ version. I’m told you can’t get this range in the other Dakshins. I was impressed with how extensive each thali menu was, and even more at the prices, that ranged from Rs. 2200 to Rs. 3600. All the food is also available a la carte. The bubbly Ms Khushi from the F&B team proudly told me that the thali comes with unlimited refills. Great value all around.

The restaurant has a welcoming vibe, like dining in a South Indian home

I dug in to the Sampoornam Thali that is the most extensive and expensive offering.

They kicked off with small rice papads, and their signature five chutneys – coconut, ginger, onion/chilli/garlic, mint, and the chutney of the day – peanut and tamarind. The chutneys were exquisite, and the papads were delicately fried and crisp. Then the rasam. Memories of my mother. Cleared my sinuses.

A Meen Varuval – bhetki fried with a chilli and lemon marinade. Not an ounce of batter, the fish was crisp, with lovely texture and flavour.

A Telangana Kodi Roast – chicken that didn’t quite rock my boat; beautiful little orbs and discs from Iyer’s trolley (a legendary chef who whipped up snacks for his guests on the fly). The Banana Dosa with shards of cashew nut on top was my fave. And then, a banana leaf placed in a thali, filled to the brim with vatis of food, celebrating the progression of the entire meal in 12 steps. One of the best-made appams I have ever eaten was placed in the middle, crisp on the outer circumference, light as a crêpe on the inner. I used it to scoop food from the vatis.

The Prawns in Mango (the small prawns were cooked so delicately that you had no need to bite down), and the Veggie Stew (shtew) with the delicate string hoppers, were brilliant.

A trio of desserts – the standouts for me were the home-made pistachio ice-cream – no chemicals, so it did not melt into a gooey mess, and the Coconut Paniyaaram. And don’t miss the filter coffee.

Of course there were misses, for me. The chicken and mutton were not a wow, some veggies did not rock – all this is par for the course in a tasting menu, with so many “courses”.

I rose from the meal, with the feeling that I had eaten at home. Warm, satisfied, comforted. Cooked not by a chef, but by my mother. Honest, sincere food, made with very good produce.

Real South Indian food grounded in Ayurvedic principles is an acquired taste. It’s absolutely worth a try, and who knows, it might just become another dining option.  I’d recommend a thali to start with, and then a la carte on your next visits, once you’ve honed in on your faves.

Chef Prakash rounded off his chat with me, with the words, "Even across the Southern states there are between 15 to 20 culinary regions. Every 200 kms, the terrain changes, and so does the cuisine."

I asked him to map out the main distinctions between the food of each state, and he drew me a chart. It might be geeky overkill, but for food buffs, it could be a nice amuse bouche.

Go to Dakshin for a taste of something different. Just remember, no dosai, idlis or vadas.

Rasam	Traditional filter coffee	Master CHef Prakash at work