In East Asian cooking, the highest compliment a dessert can receive, is that it is "not too sweet". I subscribe to this philosophy as well, and prefer subtler sweets like Rosogolla and Puranpoli over cloyingly sweet Gulab Jamuns or Mysore Paks (or the abomination called Mysurpa, popularized by Sri Krishna Sweets of Coimbatore) . But I have finally found a Mysore Pak I can enjoy.
A certain Mr. Ajit Bhaskar (@ajit_bhaskar on Twitter), runs a popular Whatsapp community Thindi Capital that organizes "Thindi walks" (thindi is food in Kannada), hitting Darshinis (small eateries serving cheap but tasty breakfast or snacks, with a limited menu, and often without seating) all over Bengaluru on weekends. He writes about these little known local neighbourhood gems in the Hindustan Times. He maintains a public Google Maps listing of all the places he's visited, which I have subscribed to. Now if you're not from Bengaluru, this list isn't probably of much use to you. I'm not either, but I have nevertheless subscribed to it for "in case I happen to be" purposes.
As chance may have it, I happened to be on the way to Channapatna (a toy making town between Bengaluru & Mysuru) for some work. Co-incidentally, there happened to be two spots on the Thindi map on my route. The first stop was serving some delightful thatte idlis (more on that another day), while the second was just unassumingly titled Hotel Shri Janardhan. A quick glance at Google reviews, mentioned only Mysore Pak, so I set course for it. This was in the town of Ramanagara, famous as a shooting location for the Bollywood blockbuster Sholay.
Note that with the new Bengaluru-Mysuru expressway, this route (on the old Bangalore-Mysore highway) is now a bit of a detour, and you probably won't see it unless you intend to go there. It involves taking a service lane well in advance to get on to the old highway, plus a detour from the highway, to get into Ramanagara town, and a drive through a narrow market with limited parking opportunities. I finally pulled into a parking spot nearby, and made my way to the restaurant. The board on top insists that this is a "Mysore Pak hotel" (hotel, here being used to mean a restaurant, and not a place with lodging). As I step inside, it is quite obvious that nobody is here to buy anything other than Mysore Pak. There is a cash counter as I enter, and a guardrail next to it to facilitate queuing. A fresh batch of Mysore Pak has just made its way from the kitchen, and the owner places it inside the glass display case.
I buy 250 grams and I make way for the next person. It was warm when I bought it, but I taste it only after getting home the next day. As mentioned in the title, the Mysore Pak is not too sweet, therefore already scoring high marks from me. The besan (gram flour) has been toasted and taken to the edge, so there's a nice toasty, nutty flavour to the Mysore Pak. The main reason why this place is so popular, is because the sweet is made in pure ghee. In fact, it uses a ton of ghee, and you can see a layer of ghee floating over the tray in the picture above. However, a day hence, the ghee has soaked into the sweet, and now it has the texture of creamy peanut butter. There is an unmistakable fatty greasiness of the ghee when you eat it, but it is tasty nevertheless, complimenting the nuttiness. Needless to say, it is the best Mysore Pak I have had.
I would definitely try it again, should the opportunity present itself, and I have a chance to visit Ramanagara or some other place in the vicinity. If you love sweets, and happen to be nearby, the location is listed on our Culturally Adventurous map.
