I have documented my experiences with the Hotel Saravana Bhavan franchise here. Thanks to my past experiences, I have remained aloof from their culinary offerings in spite of being based in the Bay Area and having taken up residence within a few miles from their Sunnyvale outlet. I mean, why bother when there are like half a dozen other places that don't manage to get under my skin as easily as HSB does.
But this don't-go-don't-get pissed off policy of mine was blown last weekend when my dear friend K (who finds honorable mentions here and here and who blogs here) drove into the Bay Area from LA with his wife. Now, K has his roots in KK Nagar, Chennai, a stone's throw from one of the earliest HSB restaurants, if not the earliest. Even after living in the US of A for over 10 years now, there is still enough KK Nagar blood coursing through his veins. So he owes his allegiances to the LA Lakers and HSB in no particular order and makes no bones about it too. In other words, while many see Saravana Bhavan as a restaurant, it is a venerated temple of food in his eyes. So even as he was crossing San Luis Obispo, a good 200 miles from my apartment, he announced loudly that we would be having dinner at Saravana Bhavan. Of course!
So when he was about 10 minutes away, he alerted me and I reluctantly drove down to their restaurant, not sure what lay in store. He pulled in around the same time and after the exchange of pleasantries, we entered at 9:52 pm (car clock). Their official closing time on Fridays, according to their website, was 10:30pm, leaving us with a clear 40 minutes of chow time. Plenty, if you ask me, for a casual desi dinner.
There were no ushers in sight nor were any guests waiting to be seated; this was after the wave of diners had faded away for the night. I approached the guy at the cash counter, the only employee that was around, and asked if we could seat ourselves. He specifically asked us to find an empty table in the far section of the restaurant as the other section was being serviced. Sure, no problem. We threaded our way through the diners to an empty and cleaned table for four. Just as we were getting settled, out comes this lady with an attitude.
"Who asked you to sit here?" Apparently, HSB specializes in cold appetizers served with a side of attitude.
"Well, the chrome dome at the cash counter did. Why?"
"We are closing this section now and you will need to be waited to be seated."
"But he specifically asked me to find a seat in this section."
"No."
Conversation was not her strong suite and she being the usher, somehow felt the need to show who wore the pants in the house.
HSB: 1 Slowelectron: 0
So we got up deliberately and moved back to the empty guest waiting chairs. Remember that scene from the movie Meet the Parents where Ben Stiller is forced by the ground staff to wait his turn to board an airplane in an empty gate? Just like that. Anyways, after a few long minutes ticked by, she emerged from somewhere with a clutch of menu cards. We followed her to a table right next to the one we were previously sitting at! Great!
KJ, who, probably because of the long drive that he had just completed, was too hungry and tired to be put off by their "service". He immediately started ordering and shot off a few items from memory and a few others from the card. Our waiter for the night, a portly middle aged man, took our orders and vanished in the general direction of the kitchen. And we started catching up on each other's lives as we awaited for our food to arrive.
With facebook, email and this ancient invention called the phone, we had very little actual catching up to do and since we were really hungry, started casting eager looks, waiting for the food to emerge. Instead, our waiter emerged bearing no food but only bad news.
"Sambhar vadai illa, mysore bonda-vum illa" (We're out of sambhar vadai and mysore bonda)
I may hold HSB in very little esteem. But I've got to admit that I do relish their sambhar vadai, the only redeeming aspect about the whole HSB experience. And so this revelation was particularly damning for me.
"Hmmm...sambhar idly oru plate, vegetable pakkoda oru plate kuduthudunga" shot back K, refusing to be dejected by the freshly delivered bad tidings.
"Sir, dosai mattum dhaan irukku, vera edhuvum illai" (There's dosai and nothing else.) He even closed his notebook with an air of finality. At HSB, bad service was always on the house.
"Oru onion rava and oru plain dosai kudunga" offered K, clearly unable to hide his disappointment. His KK Nagar pride had been punctured by the complete lack of service. By this time, I had lowered all my expectations and was ready to eat anything edible that was still available.
My onion rava came out under cooked in the center and the edges were burnt. How the chef managed to do that remains a mystery to me. K's earlier order, a mixed veggie parotta was somehow delivered and was pretty OK. And the other 2 dosais were nothing to get excited about.
Their red chutney (tomato/onion) was particularly good that evening and when we asked for an extra dollop, were told that, yes, it was not available ("segappu chutney aaidchu Sir").
All in all, that evening had all the elements of a "typical" HSB outing for me: bad service, a lot of attitude and ho-hum food. I'm now back to ignoring them. At least till K returns to the Bay Area.
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