I took this pic yesterday around noontime at Amethyst- one of those pakka artsy cafes that are thankfully not too common in any city.
It's a pleasant eating house that's more than the usual cup of frappe and sandwiches. With a bakery, flower shop, furniture store, lots of open space, plaster peeling off the walls, a gift cum clothes cum jewellery cum home store packed into the inner rooms of this colonial house, Amethyst is the kind of place any avid reader, aspiring author, self proclaimed and self involved thinker, critic, genuine artiste, expat, couple or a homemaker on lunch with her gal pals would love to visit.
Of course, for those who fit into none of the above, you can always sit around and gaze into nothing, eavesdrop on other people's conversations, or simply let your lungs take in the fresh air and your eyes feast on the lush foliage. Even when you're not doing anything, this place wields the power to make a relaxed hour seem as long as a lazy day or a long laid back day seem unfairly short. Pick up a magazine, flip, sip and just chill.
I love their juices of the day. It's always fresh, delicious and the taste is just right. Especially the rejuvenating Sugarcane juice. It's perfect for the hot Chennai weather, second only to the sweet nimbu paani.
I've tasted the Paneer Tandoori Tikkas here too and though it's a dish I can never get enough of, I wouldn't recommend you try it out at Amethyst. Given the high number of firangs and the well-off urban crowd here, the taste of the food is, what one might call, sober. It's like an Audrey or Angela trying to transform into a Mrs. Uma Fernandes or a Kamaladevi Dasgupta- appears to be making the transition, has enough scope for adjustment, is ambitious but not eager, tasteful; not over the top and with a distinct character of its own. It's understandable considering the variety of cultures that seem to converge here. The food is right for every palette, in spite of a fraction of a slip here and there, which would have added more charm to the place had it not been so lavishly priced (let's face it, you got to save up for sometime before you can afford a comfortable meal here). Clearly junior level office staff aren't exactly their target. Though if you do wear a wrinkled, faded kurta with frayed jeans, a tired expression, tousled hair and (if you're a man) sport a beard, with the mandatory Kolhapuri chappals, dirty toenails and Camus, you could still pay for just a chai and be considered 'cool' enough to linger (never mind, you've not gone beyond the first paragraph, Camus and chappals are an accessory to flash).
Given all of this, I still love going back. It's an Angela metamorphosed into the genial, warm Uma Fernandes with her P's and Q's in place; an Audrey turned into the astute, incisive, artistic Kamaladevi Dasgupta.
For all her little frailties, Amethyst is a restaurant that could just as well have been a portrait come alive. A full bodied, live person inviting you home for the Governor General's party :-), she isn't just a house. She is, in a way, memory of our collective imagination.
As long as your conversation or meal lasts, you're part of an elegant setting reminiscent of a decadent time that whisks you away from the daily modern grind. With or without company, every inch of Amethyst is worth savouring and while there might be others trying to replicate its charm, this colonial mansion stands as an undisputed landmark in Chennai.
