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THE FIRST TIME I was carted off to my Nepali grandmother’s home-town of Kalimpong for the summer holidays, she asked me, “What meat would you like to eat while we are there?” I was three-and-a-half-years old; I remember listing out everything before I was cut off with an addendum. “Remember, you’ll have to eat it for the entire three months of our trip. So, pick carefully,” my grandmother cautioned. After a bit of back and forth, mostly her gentle-yet-firm steering, we settled on pork as the prime choice. It was on this holiday that I was first introduced to the concept of nose-to-tail eating. As a meat eater, a lover of food, it has always seemed a sound and respectful way to consume.
Opening Credits
This fond memory was nudged forward during lunch at the first outstation branch of Ponram, the 50-year-old legacy restaurant from Dindigul, Tamil Nadu. They’ve opened in Bengaluru’s Koramanagala neighbourhood. While sitting with Mani Ponram, the grandson of V Ponram Yadav, we’re given insight into their abiding philosophy of “don’t waste anything at all” with regards to the sheep meat, or lamb, used in their dishes. While modern fine dining restaurants are catching up with this policy, Mani remembers this being “the way things were done” even when they were a restaurant without a name in Dindigul before they adopted his grandfather’s name for the eatery in 1973.
Ponram’s determination to stay true to eating at any of their five Dindigul establishments even at their Bengaluru branch is laudable. For the star of their menu — the mutton biryani — the lamb meat comes from free-range sheep “who only weigh between 8-9 kgs” to ensure the perfect meat to fat ratio that Ponram’s prefers; each of their ingredients are sourced from around Dindigul, “green chillies from Virakkal, garlic from Poombarai, Cardamom from Thandikudi” and so on, and rice is seeraga samba, “which gets the name seeraga because the grains resemble cumin seeds and the samba refers to the season between August and January when it is grown”. They’ve got their own farms that provide the cold-pressed oils, the ghee and the hand-ground masalas. And they’ve even opened their own butcheries in the city, and brought over their butchers “to ensure the meat cuts remain the same”.
Item Numbers
Before the hero arrives, Mani orders up some of the supporting cast from the menu for us to sample. Plates of mutton chukka varuval, mutton kola urundai, mutton thala kari, mutton liver varuval, mutton nenju chops, and mutton egg varuval arrive at our table. Each of these dishes was delicious. The boneless cubes of the chukka soaked in the peppery, pungent masala; the crispy deep-fried mince balls were bursting with flavour; the head meat curry and liver dry fry, while definitely an acquired taste, Ponram’s perfectly attuned levels of spice undercuts the funk and we found them to be very yum; the chops made with ribs from closer to sheep’s heart is soft and succulent, and the last of the starters — was the best scrambled eggs we’ve ever had — meaty, fluffy, creamy. “This dish — eggs scrambled into their mutton chukka gravy — was requested by a long-time customer and my grandfather perfected it and put it on the menu,” Mani informs us. “Over the decades, our customers have become friends first and then, as close as family,” he adds.
Even the arrival of Ponram in Bengaluru is the story of a long-forged relationship. Chandrashekar, a civil engineer who spent decades driving from the city to his commitments in Tamil Nadu “always made sure to stop and eat biryani” at Ponram in Dindigul partnered with them to bring this restaurant to the city. Now, more settled in Bengaluru, Chandrashekar wanted a shorter detour to his favourite treat.
Lights! Camera! Action!
Right in the middle of our scene, when we think we can’t have anymore, the star arrives: piping hot mutton biryani along with raita, dalcha, and bone soup. The biryani is superb, it isn’t prohibitively pungent but rather like a good acapella choir every element knows its role. And accompaniments bring out different elements of the biryani; the raita which undergoes several steps: onions crushed with rock salt to remove their astringency and bring out their sweetness. A little bit of biryani, a bit of the raita is a dance between the heat and the cold. If one decides to go the dalcha route, it’s an exercise in playing with the pungency of the pepper between the two dishes. And the addition of the bone soup turns up the volume on the spice to the maximum. These three choices allow for each diner to have their own delightful relationship with the biryani.
The Climax
Save room for the closing rituals, a little mound of white rice, a scoop of their herby-spicy coriander and several swipes of the leftover masalas from the round of starters. An extremely tasty end to the meal. And if you’ve still got room, a little cup of their Ashoka halwa must be had, its generous amounts of ghee blended into jaggery and moong dal. It’s so much greater than the sum of its parts.
Welcome to the city, Ponram! We’re happy to add you to Bengaluru’s growing roster of decadent treats.
Meal for two: Rs 1500 without alcohol.
Timings: Daily, noon till 11pm.
Address: 575, Ganapathi Temple Road, Koramangala 8th Block, Koramangala, Bengaluru. Call 9486981222 for reservations.
