Representative image of dosa.
Credit: iStock photo
Our annual ritualistic trip to Coorg, where we pay homage to our ancestors, begins in Bengaluru. Along the way, we make pit stops for breaks, refuelling, and meals. One of our favourite stops is a non-descript, quaint little hotel on the highway from Mysuru to Coorg. We stumbled upon this charming roadside motel, which looked inviting with both indoor and outdoor seating options. We opted for indoor seating to avoid the dust and pollutants from passing vehicles.
As we arrived, the guard enthusiastically waved us down, asking if we’d like to have our breakfast served in the car. We prefer to avoid drive-ins, as they can be tedious and distracting. The guard’s energetic waving is a common sight at these roadside eateries, where they eagerly seek to attract customers. Annapurna is not a fine dining establishment, nor does it boast an elaborate menu.
The waiter arrived, rattling off the menu with impressive speed and accuracy. He was, in essence, a walking, talking menu card. After taking our orders, he surprisingly turned to our driver, who had chosen to sit at a nearby table, and took his order as well. I was impressed by the waiter’s attentiveness and ability to multitask.
As he swiftly moved around taking orders, we couldn’t help but overhear his conversation: “Six coffees, one less,” he said, leaving me wondering what “one less” meant; I learnt it meant coffee without sugar. He then turned to us and asked if we wanted sugar, perhaps noticing our grey hair. We replied in the affirmative, requesting two spoons.
As the dosa arrived, the aroma wafted across the room, tantalising our taste buds. The dosa was crispy and delicious. However, when we turned around to see the waiter, he was nowhere to be found. Before we could turn away, another person approached, whom we assumed must have been the manager or the owner, to attend to us.
We have a peculiar habit of savouring sambar with a spoon, which we find enhances the flavour. Seeing us enjoy our dosa, another patron’s eyes widened in delight --as if their stomach had stumbled upon heaven. We were served coffee in the traditional South Indian style, using a two-set cup known as a dabara. This ingenious cup serves multiple purposes: it helps to foam the coffee, cools it down, and even acts as a parcel to prevent spillage.
The South Indian filter coffee is a sensory delight. Brewed to perfection, the rich aroma fills the air, tantalising the senses. It lingers on the palate, unfolding the complex flavours and beckoning one to take another sip.
The hotel’s walls featured photographs of Kannada actors, including the late Rajkumar and his son, the late Puneeth Rajkumar, alongside pictures of deities and revered spiritual leaders -- the hotel’s way of celebrating Karnataka’s rich cultural heritage and paying tribute to its iconic figures. These smaller hotels have a personal touch, lacking luxuries but boasting a warm ambience that beckons you to return. The cosy atmosphere, aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and gentle chatter make you feel like you are visiting a friend’s home.