"Wonly Maatunga Kaapi for me..."

Mr. Iyer from the first floor in our apartment building would say that each time he came to our house, usually uninvited, "Wonly, Maatunga kaapi for me, nothinnngggggg else...". He felt that the best coffee (kaapi!) that could be had, was only (wonly!) available at Matunga (Maatunga!). The place was actually known as the Madras (now, Chennai... but people still remember it as Madras in Mumbai, though Mumbai was Bombay earlier...) of Mumbai. 

Actually, it was a treat to hear Mr. Iyer say it. It went like, "In Bambaayi, Maatunga meeenz Madhdhraas, and Maatunga Kaapi, shtraang Maatunga Kaapi, is the beshsht in the worrld, yaall the worrld", which meant... "In Bombay, Matunga is Madras, and strong coffee from Matunga, is the best in all the world."

Mr. Iyer said this, even when he would come to our house, and while drinking the strong good heavenly south Indian decoction coffee that my mother would serve him. And amazingly, both my father and mother would nod their heads, and agree with Mr. Iyer in the most indulgent manner. I hated the surrender, at that time, in 1975, nearly 33 years ago. 

I was not a coffee connoisseur then. I enjoyed drinking the Narasu or Bru filter coffee, and the rare instant Nescafe made in our house. The instant Nescafe had made its strong appearance only around 1970. Nescafe also had a good filter coffee product, available at a lesser cost.

The Kabutar-khaana at Matunga, near Ram Ashraya Restaurant

My uncle, Shantaram, had a different take on Matunga kaapi. He was a faithful to have a cup at Ram Ashraya restaurant, near the kabutar-khana, the pigeons feeding place, at Matunga. He loved his cup of Matunga kaapi there, in the small stainless steel tumbler, kept inside the larger wider flat-rimmed deep stainless steel bowl. You were at paradise, as most south Indians at Matunga declared during the 60s and 70s, if you got that hot cup of kaapi to swish from the tumbler to the bowl by lifting the tumbler at least 3 feet above and pouring the hot milk-sweetened decoction accurately into the bowl. 

The aroma was already felt when the kaapi had been served at your table. You could smell it from the cup on your table and you could smell it from the cups of kaapi at other tables. The smell and aroma was all around. But when you lifted the tumbler and poured the coffee down to the bowl, the aroma hit you in the face. It must be hormonal, I think. All good honest south Indians, actually all south Indians who like strong filter coffee from out of a tumbler and vessel, are good honest south Indians. There isn't any other qualification, really. 

The Ram Ashraya Restaurant at Matunga

The Quality Tea-Coffee Shop is to its left...

Strong filter 'Kaapi' at Hotel Ram Ashraya in the classic style

The stainless steel tumbler (right) and the vessel (left).

Coffee drinking cannot be better than this...

Video demonstrating the art of mixing filter coffee at Matunga

You can increase the distance and height once you become an expert at it...

All good honest south Indians must be having an hormonal recepter to strong filter kaapi. Their poetic abilities were probably awakened at that moment of smelling strong filter kaapi. The entire world seemed happy and peaceful at that moment. The restaurant waiter, serving the hot kaapi, was now probably looking like your best friend or your favourite relative. 

My uncle would savour the coffee at Ram Ashray and then proceed to the Quality Tea-Coffee shop next to the restaurant and purchase Chicory coffee powder mixed on a 50:50 ratio with Peaberry coffee powder. This, he felt, and almost 90% of Matunga of the 70s probably agreed with him. You had to brew the decoction for an hour at home before it was ready to taste the same, well, almost the same as genuine strong filter coffee from Matunga.

There was a restaurant, Amba Bhavan, at the spot where the Matunga main road met Kings' Circle. It was yet another coffee drinker's paradise. The waiters at this restaurant were as aged and prehistoric as the furniture and the unchanged decor in the place. They were probably on speaking terms or friendly nodding terms with my father and uncle in their younger days. My grandfather probably knew them and maybe even so, knew their fathers or uncles.

The Amba Bhavan Coffee Club at King's Circle near Matunga

Honest, strong and pure filter coffee from

the Amba Bhavan Coffee Club

Most waiters at Amba Bhavan in the 80s wore a folded-up dhoti or lungi, and almost came at you with the coffee tumbler and vessel. Unlike Ram Ashry, the coffee at Amba Bhavan and Mysore Cafe in Kings' Circle came in an upturned small tumbler inside the stainless steel vessel. The coffee was trapped inside the tumbler. You had to be an expert at some of the ancient shaolin arts with a third or fourth degree black belt to be able to prise the trapped air pressure inside the tumbler and free the coffee from within it, and into the vessel.

The waiters at Amba Bhavan were expert at it. Those at Mysore Cafe would leave to your fate, unless asked help was asked for. The Amba Bhavan chaps would look at you and recognise whether you were a kaapi-shaolin sensei or not. Guessing that probably you were not even a sham kung fu pretender, they would tilt the vessel in an expert manner, causing the weight of the kaapi liquid to make the tumbler free itself from the vessel. Then, with a flourish, they would swish the coffee back and forth from the tumbler into the vessel and would reverse their hands to keep the momentum and swishing going.

The Cafe Mysore at Kings' Circle

Nescafe and instant coffee spoilt it for the kaapi-addict. 

(All photographs by Author)

"Nobody else, but Gregory Peck..."

The Guns of Navarone, my grandfather and about reliving the moment...

For my grandfather, born in 1899, and having lived through the first world war and the second world war, the independence movement in India, having seen Mahatma Gandhi, Pandit Nehru, and later, living through a free India, in the 70s, there was no other hero other than Gregory Peck. Nobody else came up to his stature. As a result, my grandfather took me to see the Guns of Navarone at Aurora theatre in Kings' Circle, sometime in 1975-1976, about three times. And each time, he would keep explaining the story to me inside the theatre, and detailed the finer points of appreciation about Gregory Peck and the movie.

India realised who Dev Anand looked like, when the nation saw Gregory Peck behind the wheels of the fishing boat, in the night storm in the movie, "Guns of Navarone". My grandfather must have pointed out the resemblance at least 2-3 times, each time we saw the movie together. Surprisingly, he had not seen the movie with his sons, my father and his uncle. But later, when I would see the movie again and again, on TV, on video VHS, on VCDs and DVDs, and lately on select clips on YouTube, my father and uncle do not fail in pointing out the resemblance in looks and similarity in style.

I miss my grandfather and his keen interest in movies, and an almost ecumenical eclecticism in his appreciation of Gregory Peck. He never appreciated "Roman Holiday" or Audrey Hepburn, though my father and uncle and myself, are diehard fans of the movie. My grandfather felt that Audrey Hepburn stole the limelight and Gregory Peck should have been smarter.

There is a scene in the "Guns of Navarone", where Gregory Peck as Mallory is at the steering wheel of the fishing boat in a heavy storm. Its night, and the rain is heavy and the boat is tilting and heaving at the wind. Gregory Peck is shown, cool as steel, and drinking coffee with a wry smile. My grandfather loved that scene. He never failed to point out the style and the mannerism of Gregory Peck during that scene. As a result, I point out the same nuances to whosoever is sitting next to me while watching the movie again and again.

It was perhaps one of the biggest disappointments to my grandfather that "Force 10 from Navarone" was made without Gregory Peck. He condemned Harrison Ford and said that he would not go too far in Hollywood. That was a classic for me, to later watch the growth of Harrison Ford and the emergence of a new super star. Perhaps Gregory Peck felt the same, knowing that he was not starring in Force 10 from Navarone.

There is a good tribute to Gregory Peck at http://www.aveleyman.com/ActorCredit.aspx?ActorID=13582 and I enjoy reading the pages at this link.

I could not help but borrow photographs of Gregory Peck in Guns of Navarone from these pages. I thank the authors of these pages for the splendid work put in by them in developing such a splendid tribute to Gregory Peck.

There is also a good blog about the movie - "The Guns of Navarone" at http://moviedearest.blogspot.com/2007/08/movie-moments-guns-of-navarone.html

This blog has a classic photograph of Gregory Peck. I thank the authors of this blog.

From the Guns of Navarone to Roman Holiday

And then, came along Roman Holiday. I am not sure of which movie actually preceded which one, but in Mumbai, Bombay at those times, Roman Holiday followed the Guns of Navarone. While we watched Guns of Navarone again and again at Aurora Theatre, at Kings Circle, the Roman Holiday was best to watch at Regal Cinema near the Gateway of India.

And the best show to watch Roman Holiday was 9 to 12 pm at Regal Cinema on a Saturday night. My grandfather did not appreciate the movie, as I said earlier, because Audrey Hepburn seemed to shadow over Gregory Peck. But, by then, my father and his brother, were diehard fans of the movie. And of course, I went with them to watch the movie.

It was the most fascinating experience. All the old-aged parsi ladies in their finest from Colaba to Kalbadevi to all the other locations seemed to have come to watch the movie. They would laugh loudly when the happy sequences were being shown, and how they cried when Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn separated. They began to cry visibly when the scence showing Audrey Hepburn as the Princess was shown and Gregory Peck is a visiting journalist in the queue.

One lady began to scold Audrey Hepburn from the audience. She was almost insisting with Audrey Hepburn to accept Gregory Peck, as though the movie would suddenly change and the script would take on her idea.

http://rtmulcahy.wordpress.com/ presents a beautiful short essay about Roman Holiday and a personal experience in watching the movie. I am sure there must be several such essays on the net already. There is one splendid photograph on this blog page... for all those who have seen this movie, this shot will certainly give you the tremors...