An Ode to Komala Vilas

It sits inconspicuously at No. 78 on the crowded Serangoon Road, just one in a row of bustling shops and restaurants. The greatest institutions have no need for advertisement, and this one is no different. There are no boys handing out pamphlets luring the passerby in, unlike at some of the newer establishments on the same road,. The signboard simply says "Komala Vilas Vegetarian Restaurant". The lettering "ESTD 1947" below the name is the only flash of self indulgence, affirming that amid a sea of change, quality survives.

The uninitiated sometimes confuse KV with the Komala's chain of vegetarian restaurants. Those in the know would only shake their heads with pity. The latter is modelled on a fast food chain, with waiters in orange t-shirts and red caps, and has "Mock Mutton Biryani" on its menu. I suspect the owners of KV would rather sell out than allow any such item on theirs.

This is not to say that the KV menu is strictly South Indian. Apart from an array of dosas and other South Indian snacks, they also serve Veg Jal Farezi, Veg Biryani and the like. But what sets this place apart from the crowd is the South Indian meal, aka "Rice Plate" aka "Saapaad".

I suspect most of the clientele (a mix of Indian, Chinese, and Caucasian) have not chanced their way into this restaurant. They have been here before, and have come back knowing they cannot get the same elsewhere. As I enter, one of the staff mutters, "Rice Plate Upstairs". I feel a bit disappointed to be guided as a novice, clearly not seen often enough yet to be considered a regular.

I make my way up the narrow staircase, nod at the several black and white wooden framed photographs on the wall (representing, I guess generations of the owner family) and offer to pay for my meal first as per usual procedure. But the lady at the cash counter graciously says I can eat first. I look around and can tell why - today being Tuesday, the restaurant is only about sixty per cent full.

I find myself a small table meant for two, settle down on the familiar rexine cushioned chair, and place my hands on the table to test its wobble (a critical factor when negotiating rasam spread on a banana leaf). In a couple of minutes a banana leaf spreads itself on my table, with an array of curries, chutneys and dal adorning it, encircling a hillock of white rice.

I dig in, and within a couple of morsels, feel assured that the cooking staff here have not lost any of their touch. The dry raw banana preparation is outstanding. The beans poriyal could have been made in my mum's kitchen. The chana dal chutney, my dad's favourite, would have done my grandma proud. The Vatha Kuzhambu adds necessary zing to the palate. The radish sambar is heart-warming. KV's rasam is the only thing that I am not bowled over by, partial as I am to the stronger tomato heavy Bangalore variety (preferably with a hint of jaggery), but let's not split hair here.

The senior waiter on the floor is attending to me today, and makes five approaches to my table during my meal, to check if I need anything. I am almost apologetic about not asking for second helpings, but it is hard enough to get through all of the initial serving. Curd and payasam round off a hearty meal.

In relationships, there comes a point beyond which one loses ones capacity for objectivity, and can hear no criticism on the subject of discussion. I feel that way about a select few - my dearest family and friends, favourite movies, sportsmen, holiday destinations etc. I fear I am close to reaching that stage with KV. What is so special about the food here, one may ask. I can only say it is tasty, fresh and un-restaurantlike.

Inflation has not left KV untouched, and I remember the meal, now priced at $7, costed 50 cents less on my last trip to Singapore. Still, if there is a better way to spend seven bucks in this city, I would like to see it.

Year of the Dragon

It is the first day of the Chinese Lunar New Year. It's the Year of the Dragon, the only mythical creature in the Chinese Zodiac. The last time we had the dragon come around, it was the turn of the century.

The excellent thing about New Years is that they start with a holiday. CNY is a big event in Singapore, and most offices are shut for two days. This time, the first day of the New Year fortuitously falls on Monday, resulting in a four day weekend.

My New Year began with tossing a salad at my cousin's (now a Singapore veteran of 16 months), a traditional ritual to welcome the Chinese New Year. This is called Yu Sheng and while the real thing has strips of raw fish, we made do with a vegetarian substitute.

Seeing a long weekend stretching ahead of me, I found license to make it even lazier than usual, catching two movies back to back at the neighbourhood cinema. The two movies, "Contraband" (action thriller) and "The Descendants" (human relationships drama) were far apart in content, but both thoroughly enjoyable.

The weekend also gave me the time to sit back and re-connect with some friends and family I hadn't chatted with in a while. My social calendar in Singapore has suddenly started looking busier, with entry into a Book Club I was introduced to via my cousin. There's a bit of pressure, given the commitment to read a book every two months, and then talk about it. The latter bit makes me feel like I am on that TV talk show hosted by Whoopi Goldberg, but I believe it's all in a good cause.

While I was just loitering around the shopping area on Orchard Road, a passerby who seemed to guess I had nothing better to do, asked if I could help escort a blind lady to the bus stop a block away. I did this, and felt a lot better about myself than I had in a long while. Doing good feels good - no doubt about that.

I tried looking up what the Year of the Dragon 2012 has in store, but couldn't find anything that clearly made a statement, one way or the other. If the start is anything to go by, I think it's going to be A Good Year.

Gong Xi Fa Cai.