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Bamboo Bar

Reviewed by Sachin Rao
Savera Hotel
146 Radhakrishnan Road.
Ph : 044 2811 4700

Map: Click Here

When suitably pandafied after a hard day’s work, and further by a gritty ride down Radhakrishna Salai (which now sports a flyover as some chaps do nipple rings), what better and more apt plan than to head over to Bamboo Bar, and do a few ‘shoots’?

The Savera Hotel’s idea of decor that cheers is yards and yards of faux bamboo, alias cane. It’s on the walls, flanking some rather grumpy chinky masks, it’s on the chairs, it’s on the little coin-shaped-and-sized tables that seem to throw a round-eyed challenge at you, to fit more than three bottles and an ashtray on their miserly surfaces.

Outnumbered by the five of us, the table suffered ignominious defeat. Leading our waiter (throughout an unwitting source of amusement) to tuck our depleting empty beer bottles in strange nooks and crannies after topping up our glasses. I’m not kidding – the sofa chair, the potted plant, none was spared his beady eye and lightning arm. While on the subject, the BoB is 0.90 here. The NuttyWaiter index, tho’, went through the non-bamboo roof.

The fact that only one of us was drinking beer, however, did not dim his spirit of unconscious entertainment. He managed to interpret our request for a ‘whisky-soda’ as a ‘whisky-sour’ – if you please, pronounced “sore” as in eyesore, mysore and kaun-banega-sorepathi. Then, like a bowtied PC Sorcar, he made the free-snacks vanish in a puff of cig smoke (fooling my hand which still hovered mid-air, wondering when along the road of evolution peanuts grew wings), presumably to make space the for the heavyweight munchies on the cowering table.

Getting down to the drinks, by and large they were acceptable, save a tad extra sweetness hiding in the ‘whisky-sore’. The Bloody Mary was reasonable too. Surrounded by all the bambooze, I decided to sample the ‘Bamboo Shoot’. The menu bore no explanation, so it was left to my tongue to deduce that this glassful contained lots of Angostura Bitters and lots of wallop.

If all this detective work is too much for your addled cerebrum, stick to good ol’ one-large-please. Do note however, through foggy eyes, the 4-point-size warning that taxes are extra. Oh and extra they were, adding about two hundred bucks to our tab. While adding to our flab, were vegetarian and non-vegetarian snacks.

In terms of ambience, the Bamboo Bar is tinged with a mite of plush respectability – middle-aged to elderly men, relishing a quiet drink amidst the fake foliage. The by-now ubiquitous group of KBC-gawkers, and the perennial got-a-new-cell-and-loudly-thrilled types notwithstanding, more or less decent enough folk who aren’t going to bother you. Which is more than can be said for that well-meaning but megaclown of a waiter…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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