Lavang Lata in Pune. Review on Tips on Mumbai Tiffin Service

LAVANG LATA AT BABUMOSAI

By

VIKRAM KARVE

I love Heritage Cuisine!

“Heritage Cuisine” – sounds good isn’t it?

You may presume that this pompous term refers to pretentious traditional high-brow cuisine which adorns the tables of the classes!

In my vocabulary “heritage cuisine” is high-falutin gobbledygook for simple staple down-to-earth local street-food relished by the masses. Like Vada Pav(Mumbai’s “Heritage Burger”), or Puneri Misal, or Kulcha Chole, Katchi Dabeli, Bhel, Kathi Kababs, Baida Roti, Malpua, Jhunka Bhakar, Momos, Jalebis – the list is endless.

There is a delicious sweetmeat called “Lavang Lata” which I tasted for the first time and relished piping hot at Pehelwan’s at the end of Lanka near BHU in Varanasi in the seventies. A cool Lassi( in winter) or warm milk(in summer), both with dollops of rabdi added, topped up the gastronomic experience.

Later, in the eighties, I came across  slightly different versions of Lavang Lata at various eateries, most notably at Nathu Sweets at Bengali Market in New Delhi. But these versions were nowhere close to Pehelwan’s truly invigorating and substantial ‘Banarasi’ Lavang Lata which left one truly satiated and in a state of delight.

Just imagine my surprise, when, during my walk one evening, I chanced upon a delectable Lavang Lata in an out-of-the-way unpretentious sweet shop called ‘Babumosai Bengali Sweets’ tucked away almost in obscurity, way off the beaten track, on Aundh Road, on the way to Khadki in Pune.

Actually I was in search of Rasgullas.(Roshogollas, if you want it spelt that way). Having relocated from a ‘happening’ place like Churchgate in the heart of Mumbai to an obscure “back of the beyond” desolate place somewhere in the jungles of Pune on the banks of Mula river between Aundh and Sangvi, craving and wandering desperately in my search for ‘heritage food’, I hit the Aundh road past Spicer College towards Khadki, enjoying a refreshing walk between the expanse of the verdant Botanical Gardens and the foliage of Pune University, when in the first building I encountered on my left, I saw a nondescript signboard “Babumosai Bengali Sweets”(maybe the spelling ought to be ‘Babumoshai’) atop a deserted lackluster sweetshop.

There was no one in the shop and the lifeless atmosphere and uninspiring display almost put me off.  But having come so far, I decided to give it a try and looked at the sweets on display in trays behind a glass counter - Rasgullas, Sandesh, Rajbhog, Gulab Jamuns, Malai Sandwiches - the ubiquitous ‘Bengali Sweets’; and suddenly a man came out carrying a tray of piping hot Lavang Latas, the very sight of which made my mouth water so much that I ordered one immediately.

I walked outside the shop, stood in the cool evening air, took a small bite of the Lavang Lata, rolled the syrupy hot piece on my eager salivated tongue and closed my eyes in order to enhance my gustatory experience.

I pressed the Lavang Lata upwards with my tongue against the palate, the roof of my mouth, and slowly it disintegrated releasing its heavenly flavour of nutmeg and cardamom. That’s the way you should enjoy Bengali sweetmeats – never bite, swallow and devour in a hurry. Don’t use your teeth; slowly, very slowly, just roll on your tongue and lightly press on the roof of your mouth till the delicacy melts and dissolves releasing its luxurious flavour and divine fragrance into your gustatory and olfactory systems. And remember, keep your eyes closed, shut yourself to the outside world, focus on your tongue, internalize the experience and transcend to a state of delightful ecstasy, till you feel you are in seventh heaven. That’s the art of eating.

The Lavang Lata is perfect. Not sickly sweet, but tantalizingly tasty, with the subtle essence of its ingredients and seasoning coming through. The rabri and khoya, the raisins and dry fruits, the crispy sweet crust, the spices and most importantly, the exotic fortifying and stimulating taste of clove. It’s sheer bliss. The refreshing taste lingers on my tongue for a long time, as if for eternity.

reviewed by' foodie'  VIKRAM KARVE

vikramkarve@sify.com