It is a landmark that can be easily missed. Only a whit larger than a carrel, this shop can elude an inattentive sweep of the eye. It however signifies familiarity for habitues of the Sholinganallur junction. And for habitues of the shop, good taste.
On Google reviews (under ‘Kuzhi Paniyram Shop Shplinganallur’), it has racked up a 4.8 with 188 reviewers having sussed it out, at last count.
Kuzhipaniyaram Kadai has successfully grown its following, though its menu never grew beyond a single item — the traditional Tamil Nadu snack whose name it proudly bears.
Kuzhipaniyaram Kadai is among a gazillion of small shops that have one simple, home-brewed formula for success, one it has to repeat every day going back over the same dreary details. There is no option of building on past successes. There is no room for adding new formulas. There is no bandwidth for experimentation, let alone expansion.
A nickels-and-dimes business in the best of times, Kuzhipaniyaram Kadai is essentially designed to sustain just the couple who runs it. They are the chefs, the ushers and the servers.
“We make all the preparations at our home in Perungudi. The kuzhipaniyarams are made at the shop, as the orders come in,” explains P. Karupaiah.
Karupaiah and his wife Chellammal would not share the special recipe that has many young techies eating out of their hand, because there is no exotic recipe to share.
“It is just the plain kuzhipaniyaram, sweet and sour, that we make,” elaborates Karupiah, suggesting that he cannot put a finger on why it sets tastebuds on fire.
“We make it hygienically” — a fact attested by many reviewers. “We do not add any superfluities to make it look and taste better. A big no to soda salt. Even for the sake of experimentation, we have not added soda salt, not even once,” he remarks.
That is something attested by the size of the dumplings. They are hardly fluffy, staying as frill-free as the shop itself.
There are no elaborate accompaniments; only three regular chutneys.
The preservatives-free dumplings are as easy on the purse as they are on the tummy. “Six dumplings are sold at ₹30; and an additional ₹2 is added for takeaways as they entail packing.”
Though reduced in dimensions, Kulzhipaniyaram Kadai is not entirely unobtrusive. Quaintly cylindrical, the kiosk briefly holds the onlooker’s attention — that is, if they have noticed it. Its rotund steel body is partly wrapped in square fretwork, which betrays signs of corrosion and hardly any efforts to stem it.
Karupaiah points out that the shop with its design was made possible by the generosity of a benefactor.
The shop has served them well since 2013, and when the pandemic caused the business to run in fits and starts, not once did the thought of shuttering it for good or changing tack occur to either of them. Sometimes, a modest view of one’s abilities — which may also be a realistic appraisal — enables people to stay on track, and focussed on one’s primary strengths.
“We started selling kuzhipaniyarams because we knew we could make it. And also because it is not easy to make them, and so there would not be much competition to deal with.”
The pandemic has tested this couple’s capacity for stoicism. For days on end, the shop had to stay closed. For many of the days it was open, it had to bring down the shutters early due to state regulations. Before the pandemic, the shop would open at 5 p.m. and go on till 11 p.m., staying up to cater to techies who work odd hours as a matter of routine. Besides, due to work from home, many software professionals had left for their hometowns, leaving Kuzhipaniyaram Kadai with a depleted loyal-customer base. “However, whenever we opened, some of our regular customers returned, bothering to find out if we were in circulation again,” reveals Karupaiah. And that is keeping his hopes of a revival alive.