|Golbari special mutton keema|
And as they proudly say, they have NO BRANCHES.
So, when, one day, me and a certain food-addict friend (we should call this individual R) decided to venture out on a cold Sunday evening to Gol Bari (also known as New Punjabi Hotel, but no one calls it that), we were going there, expecting a big plate of Mutton Kawsha, the stuff which Gol Bari is famous for.
However, on our way to the tiny counter, we were sort of ... well... we... er... let's just say, we got distracted. Because as soon as you enter this tiny, very busy place, with service that is so fast that food-filled plates appear before you have been able to finish your order, you would feel cherished and loved. Because its like being with a Bengali mother. Seemingly brusque, but fills you up with love because you know you are treated as one of her own.
People come to Golbari because they think that this teeny tiny joint with tiny footstools and marble counter-top barely able to hold your plates only serves good Mutton Kawsha.
What they forget, is, there is more to Golbari than that.
There are other things.
Which R and I discovered. Well, to be fair, I have discovered earlier, but R found it too!
|Fish Fry. 42/- (I am hoping I am right here. I just might not be. It can be 45/-)|
For example, this tantalizing beauty, a flat fillet of fish coated lovingly in crumb and fried till perfectly crisp, served with a side of sinus-clearing mustard and pickled onions. My friend's face was a pleasure to watch as he bit into it. And then he closed his eyes, and sighed.
And then came the fish chop. Its 12/- and huge. And filled with nubbins of fish cooked down with spices and breadcrumbs and vegetables, and then coated with crumbs and deep fried. It is unhealthy. But if you are going to associate health with Golbari, then you probably are looking at the wrong place.
At this point, our star of the show appeared. We had foregone the Kawsha and ordered the Mutton Keema. Rather, the Keema Combo, which comes with a plate of Keema, 2 pieces of bread which is a cross between a roti and a paratha, a dollop of sour, tamarind chutney, and a small huddle of chopped onions, with specks of cucumbers and beetroots in it, that passes off as salad.
|Mutton Keema Plate. 106/-|
An old Bengali obsession, that Salad.
And then there was the Tamarind Chutney.
Which was glorious and I was salivating, even before it hit the table, just thinking about it. But the star of this show had to be the Keema.
It was spicy, and I wanted the extra spicy one, so I grabbed the one with that big green chilli on top, so I could munch on it while eating the Keema. It was not too tender or soft. Essentially, this Keema had character. You would have to chew it in, to wring out the flavors, before it becomes sufficiently pliant for you to gulp it down. R thought that the roti/paratha was not enough, and he ordered another fish fry to dip the Keema in and eat.
Of course, we live like that. We have no respect for our arteries. Lungs. Heart.
You name it. We shame it.
You name it. We shame it.
Because we are amazingly happy like that.
The bill for this dinner came to somewhere below 300/- (shameful, I know!!) and we were going out when R suggested getting some jal jeera sodas (15/- per bottle) which we drank down to chase the oils down our throat.
And I leave you with a snap of the crowded Golbari, jam packed at nearly 10 in the night.
Golbari (New Punjabi Hotel)
Shyambazar 5 mathar more,