My TOVO Experience
I am in heaven! Okay... I know I am not but if heaven were anything like my present, I'd totally be like," So long, Earth!"
Why am in this hyped state? Well, it's all because of this restaurant I just came back from. Eating out puts me on a much higher vibration than usual. But this time was unique, amazingly new with a tad bit of nostalgia. Ah, the beauty of new experiences tinged with past memories, dreams clashing with surprises, expectations and reality. The magnificence of life keeps taking my breath away. What am I blathering in about, you ask? One word, TOVO.
That's the place I went to. It had this rustic warehouse theme going on; it was all faded colours, high ceilings with glasses hanging down, enclosing mild lighting. The steps were narrow, there were loose bricks on the walls, the chairs and tables looked purely functional though there were a few 'swings' and the plates were flat pieces of metal , looking like a blacksmith's improvised eating instrument. The posters were sarcastic yet funny and a group of mechanics working on an automobile would have seemed totally natural if they had occupied 'centre stage'.
The food was set up into categories similar to the garage-western countryside - mechanic vibe the place was giving out. Burgers! Flaps!(like wraps but better!) Steak! Dessert! Drinks! Rice! These were the categories. The list of foods under each category was not laboriously long. They were nicely adequate yet were abundant enough to confuse one. After meticulous scrutiny, we decided over the Pulled Chicken Flap and the Fishy Flap. My grandpa, who was the chaperone for the event chose the Veg Rice. I felt that the choice wasn't very ambitious considering the options that lay in front of him, but I left him to his comfort zone. Somehow, his lamenting added to the rusty vibe. But it was a good thing that I had my friend with me, for she is like me when it comes to food- she eats slow, experiences more. We had to wait for a very short while before the onslaught of delicately powerful flavours and aromas. And the place had me exclaiming," This is the BEST PLACE EVER!" even before the food arrived.
I already talked about the plates, didn't I? Well , they were awesome. The salad on the side was surprisingly delicious, god knows what they put in the dressing. Almost took my mind off the main course but not completely. The flap (wrap) was stuffed almost to bursting. The sauce and the meat's juice dripped down my fingers as I struggled to fit the wrap into my mouth in a a manner as dignified as possible. Suffice it to say, dinner was a messy affair. After a while, I let go of all manners and started licking my fingers with total abandon; the food was that good. The Pulled Chicken Flap had a certain shawarma feel to it and was the bossy king of the party, or in this case the wrap and rocked the party/wrap with no help from any veggies, blah blah. The Fishy Flap however had cucumber and other vegetables totally unrecognisable for they had been infused with some miracle sauce. This is an amazing way to get in your veggies!
Dessert! Dessert! Dessert! The very word maxes out my heart rate sending me into a joyful flurry. I got Kaos! It was their signature dish, the staff told me. My friend got the Caramello Cake. We shouldn't have, actually. Two desserts after one whole wrap each at this place was over confidence, if you ask me. Their serving sizes are " that's quite enough. We oredered right" by the looks and "OMG! Yeah.. I want more cake..but there will a catastrophic explosion if I stuff in even one more bite!" when you eat. The cakes did not" look" hugely intimidating. They were nice adequate serving sizes. We progressed to have half of each. And the first bite, nearly had me bursting into tears.
No, it wasn't that good nor that bad. Okay, it was ravishing but the flood of emotions were not because of that. Neither was it PMS. It was long back, when I was in 4th grade or something. It was summer and I was in Bangalore with my cousins. My aunt , one day, presented with a flourish (maybe she didn't. But the memory is all rose petals and birds chirping for me) a plate of pastries from this nearby bakeries. I bit into one and nearly fainted. It was cake but it had no flour. It was soft and creamy yet it wasn't cheesy. It was not too sweet, but a perfect blend of everything perfect. I started looking out for this stuff every time I went out but never did I find 'pastries' such as the ones that changed my taste buds forever. I was contemplating whether it has been cheesecake ; one bite of cheesecake was enough to tell me that wasn't it. I had my mom make cheesecake, I bought tons of it; but nothing, NADA, zip. The taste of the past remained as evasive as ever. Until today. It was That Pastry. And it came to me when I had not even thought about it and to say that it took me by surprise would be an understatement. Sure, it might be just cake. I mean, life has so many nuances to it and here I am raving about this one piece of cake like a loony on the loose, as if it were solely responsible for what life has become for me. But that's me. My life , if I look back has these bright spots that were 'Food' moments and then there's squiggles and wiggles of lines, curves and patterns that represents the other moments. I was unabashedly licking the plate when the waiter came over to ask about our experience. My grandpa proceeded to trash the restaurant and the poor waiter turned to us expecting the worst. I think he might have gotten freaked out by my outburst. I thanked them and said that it was the best experience ever while I did pirouettes in my head with the occassional back flip. The comment sheet was filled up without an inch to spare with thank yous and compliments. A few selfies later , we left the haven that had been the treasure trove of memories and joy, new beginnings and a tiny bit of craziness.
Why am in this hyped state? Well, it's all because of this restaurant I just came back from. Eating out puts me on a much higher vibration than usual. But this time was unique, amazingly new with a tad bit of nostalgia. Ah, the beauty of new experiences tinged with past memories, dreams clashing with surprises, expectations and reality. The magnificence of life keeps taking my breath away. What am I blathering in about, you ask? One word, TOVO.
That's the place I went to. It had this rustic warehouse theme going on; it was all faded colours, high ceilings with glasses hanging down, enclosing mild lighting. The steps were narrow, there were loose bricks on the walls, the chairs and tables looked purely functional though there were a few 'swings' and the plates were flat pieces of metal , looking like a blacksmith's improvised eating instrument. The posters were sarcastic yet funny and a group of mechanics working on an automobile would have seemed totally natural if they had occupied 'centre stage'.
The food was set up into categories similar to the garage-western countryside - mechanic vibe the place was giving out. Burgers! Flaps!(like wraps but better!) Steak! Dessert! Drinks! Rice! These were the categories. The list of foods under each category was not laboriously long. They were nicely adequate yet were abundant enough to confuse one. After meticulous scrutiny, we decided over the Pulled Chicken Flap and the Fishy Flap. My grandpa, who was the chaperone for the event chose the Veg Rice. I felt that the choice wasn't very ambitious considering the options that lay in front of him, but I left him to his comfort zone. Somehow, his lamenting added to the rusty vibe. But it was a good thing that I had my friend with me, for she is like me when it comes to food- she eats slow, experiences more. We had to wait for a very short while before the onslaught of delicately powerful flavours and aromas. And the place had me exclaiming," This is the BEST PLACE EVER!" even before the food arrived.
I already talked about the plates, didn't I? Well , they were awesome. The salad on the side was surprisingly delicious, god knows what they put in the dressing. Almost took my mind off the main course but not completely. The flap (wrap) was stuffed almost to bursting. The sauce and the meat's juice dripped down my fingers as I struggled to fit the wrap into my mouth in a a manner as dignified as possible. Suffice it to say, dinner was a messy affair. After a while, I let go of all manners and started licking my fingers with total abandon; the food was that good. The Pulled Chicken Flap had a certain shawarma feel to it and was the bossy king of the party, or in this case the wrap and rocked the party/wrap with no help from any veggies, blah blah. The Fishy Flap however had cucumber and other vegetables totally unrecognisable for they had been infused with some miracle sauce. This is an amazing way to get in your veggies!
Dessert! Dessert! Dessert! The very word maxes out my heart rate sending me into a joyful flurry. I got Kaos! It was their signature dish, the staff told me. My friend got the Caramello Cake. We shouldn't have, actually. Two desserts after one whole wrap each at this place was over confidence, if you ask me. Their serving sizes are " that's quite enough. We oredered right" by the looks and "OMG! Yeah.. I want more cake..but there will a catastrophic explosion if I stuff in even one more bite!" when you eat. The cakes did not" look" hugely intimidating. They were nice adequate serving sizes. We progressed to have half of each. And the first bite, nearly had me bursting into tears.
No, it wasn't that good nor that bad. Okay, it was ravishing but the flood of emotions were not because of that. Neither was it PMS. It was long back, when I was in 4th grade or something. It was summer and I was in Bangalore with my cousins. My aunt , one day, presented with a flourish (maybe she didn't. But the memory is all rose petals and birds chirping for me) a plate of pastries from this nearby bakeries. I bit into one and nearly fainted. It was cake but it had no flour. It was soft and creamy yet it wasn't cheesy. It was not too sweet, but a perfect blend of everything perfect. I started looking out for this stuff every time I went out but never did I find 'pastries' such as the ones that changed my taste buds forever. I was contemplating whether it has been cheesecake ; one bite of cheesecake was enough to tell me that wasn't it. I had my mom make cheesecake, I bought tons of it; but nothing, NADA, zip. The taste of the past remained as evasive as ever. Until today. It was That Pastry. And it came to me when I had not even thought about it and to say that it took me by surprise would be an understatement. Sure, it might be just cake. I mean, life has so many nuances to it and here I am raving about this one piece of cake like a loony on the loose, as if it were solely responsible for what life has become for me. But that's me. My life , if I look back has these bright spots that were 'Food' moments and then there's squiggles and wiggles of lines, curves and patterns that represents the other moments. I was unabashedly licking the plate when the waiter came over to ask about our experience. My grandpa proceeded to trash the restaurant and the poor waiter turned to us expecting the worst. I think he might have gotten freaked out by my outburst. I thanked them and said that it was the best experience ever while I did pirouettes in my head with the occassional back flip. The comment sheet was filled up without an inch to spare with thank yous and compliments. A few selfies later , we left the haven that had been the treasure trove of memories and joy, new beginnings and a tiny bit of craziness.
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