Kappa Chakka Kandhari: On a quest for tapioca

Chef Reji Mathew sits enveloped in cook books and sunshine. “This is my dream office,” he smiles, over cups of strong, frothy, Kerala tea shop-style tea. The office opens into a studio kitchen, gleaming with sleek equipment and Rosenthal crystal. “I use this space for photo shoots and consulting work,” says Regi, sliding open a Teppanyaki grill. “We also host exclusive dinners here. The idea is to offer guests a premium dining experience.”

Downstairs, at Regi’s latest restaurant, Kappa Chakka Kandhari, opened with his two friends — Augustine Kurian who works with event management and John Paul, who does interior design — the vibe is completely different: More like a family dining table than a formal restaurant. Customers weave through the space to exchange notes on the food and swap recipes with the partners, cheerfully waiting on tables. As he enters, Regi is waylaid by a customer who gives him her dog-eared copy of Mrs BF Varughese’s Recipes for All Occasions.

“This is how we put our menu together,” chuckles the chef, before scurrying away to pick up a plate of steamed tapioca, served with a fragrant chutney of small onions, chillies and coconut oil.

This is food Regi grew up on. Which is why he decided to build his 100th restaurant opening around it. Best known as the chef behind Benjarong, Ente Keralam and Zara (now Sera) the Tapas Bar, he graduated from the Institute of Hotel Management and Catering Technology in Thiruvananthapuram. He was with Taj West End for almost eight years before joining serial restaurateur M Mahadevan. “I worked with him for 14 years and learned so much,” says Regi, clearly still in awe of his mentor, who founded Hot Breads and then went on to build a restaurant empire that currently spans the globe.

New wine, newer bottle

Although the Ente Keralam model is a proven success, Regi was determined to create a completely fresh prototype. “I didn’t want to do a cut, copy, paste,” he says, laying out a bowl of pazham kanzhi on the table, a humble, delicious concoction of red rice fermented in water overnight then served with chopped onions, chillies and chutney.

“We are banking on nostalgia,” says Regi. “This is my mom’s food. She would cook with whatever was available in the backyard: tapioca steamed with kandhari chillies. Or sun-dried bananas.” The menu lists staples like puttu (steamed rice cakes topped with grated coconut), chakka puzhukku (steamed jackfruit) and stringhoppers, and a wide range of accompaniments, from a simple breadfruit curry to spicy toddy shop-inspired clams.

Augustine passes by balancing a tray of freshly fried fish, adding, “We were missing our mom’s food. So we thought there would be a lot of people like us.” His mother lives in Kannur, John’s mother is in Thrissur and Regi’s is in Pala. All three joined forces to help their sons construct the menu. “Everyone’s aunts, grand-aunts and grandmothers were roped in,” laughs Augustine.

On the hoggers’ trail

Then the travelling began. “We visited 265 houses across Kerala for one year, eating fantastic lunches,” says Regi, “And in the evenings, we ate in toddy shops: almost 65 in total.” They then began to draw up a plan to source the best ingredients: fish from Cherai, elephant yam from Trichur and ginger from John’s mother’s farm in Chalakudy. As for the famed kandhari chillies? “We get ours from Thiruvananthapuram. It’s hot: but good hot. Instead of a heat that penetrates for a long time, it gives a short, sweet burst of spicyness,” says Regi.

The brand opened with pop-ups in Bengaluru two years ago. “Our first event had 15,000 people. We got home cooks from all over Kerala and presented almost 100 dishes.” They went on to do an event in Sharjah for which, Augustine says, they took 60 people and two container loads of material — including ginger and garlic — to cater to 25,000 people.

Realising they were ready for a brick-and-mortar restaurant, they began short-listing cooks, none of whom were professional chefs. As a result, Regi says, the kitchen feels more like a home than a professional workspace. “The puttu man sings Malayalam songs as he works...”

And yes. Their mothers have visited. Did they like it? There’s a long silence as the three grown men look at each other nervously. Then Regi says, cautiously, “Well. You know mothers. They always say you should do better.”