Pull up a chair at Paati and Thatha’s table

CHENNAI: “Saaptiya?” is a simple question, but in many Tamil homes, it has never really meant just “Have you eaten?” It is an offering, an expression of care and sometimes, the easiest way to say, “I am thinking of you.”

Long before strangers knew her as the warm, smiling face behind Paati Thatha Diaries on Instagram, 82-year-old Saroja Narayanan from Kumbakonam was simply the grandmother who would feed anyone who walked through her door.

Family, friends, her grandchildren’s friends - it made little difference. Even if someone arrived late at night, there would be food, care and a place at the table.

But this isn’t a restaurant. There is no commercial kitchen or elaborate service. There is Saroja Paati cooking the food she has made for decades, with her 90-year-old husband, S Narayanan, helping where he can. Their granddaughter Shriya Srivatsan, 27, along with her husband Dhruv Sreewastav, has given that instinct for hospitality a new expression through Paati, Thatha & Pethi’s Supper Club, an extension of their love of serving food.

Shriya remembers imagining an alternate life for them. “I can imagine if you guys had an alternative life, you guys would be in Kodaikanal and you’ll have this cute cafe and you would run it together,” she had told them.

A cafe, however, wasn’t practical. A supper club was. The first one was a trial with friends. Shriya was initially unsure whether it would work, particularly because she wanted to do something that was completely true to them, the food they had cooked and eaten for years. But the response was immediate.One dish, in particular, kept coming up: Paati’s Rasam Sadam. Shriya had grown up eating it and remembers taking it to school and college almost every day. She rarely got to eat her own lunch because her friends would finish it. Paati, she says, knows more than 21 types of rasam.

“There is something special about it. Everybody who comes to supper club also says it’s so soulful and warm,” Shriya says.

A lifetime of places, gathered on one table

The latest supper club is built around a theme close to the couple’s lives: travel. Over the years, Paati and Thatha have called several places home, and each place left behind a flavour, a friendship or a memory. The menu brings those pieces together.

Every dish on the Travel Edition menu carries a story. There is Paati’s Panakam, Travelling Dhokla, Paati’s Magical Ragada Patties, her Signature Rasam Sadam, Paruppu Pongal and Porichu Kozhambu, followed by Thatha’s Love Letter, a banana-walnut dessert.

For Saroja, Kumbakonam is where some of her earliest food memories took root. Her panakam, which welcomes guests at the supper club, is something she learnt from her grandmother. She has been making it for festivals and family occasions for years, so often that making it has become almost instinctive.

One dish, in particular, kept coming up: Paati’s Rasam Sadam. Shriya had grown up eating it and remembers taking it to school and college almost every day. She rarely got to eat her own lunch because her friends would finish it. Paati, she says, knows more than 21 types of rasam.

“There is something special about it. Everybody who comes to supper club also says it’s so soulful and warm,” Shriya says.

A lifetime of places, gathered on one table

The latest supper club is built around a theme close to the couple’s lives: travel. Over the years, Paati and Thatha have called several places home, and each place left behind a flavour, a friendship or a memory. The menu brings those pieces together.

Every dish on the Travel Edition menu carries a story. There is Paati’s Panakam, Travelling Dhokla, Paati’s Magical Ragada Patties, her Signature Rasam Sadam, Paruppu Pongal and Porichu Kozhambu, followed by Thatha’s Love Letter, a banana-walnut dessert.

For Saroja, Kumbakonam is where some of her earliest food memories took root. Her panakam, which welcomes guests at the supper club, is something she learnt from her grandmother. She has been making it for festivals and family occasions for years, so often that making it has become almost instinctive.

The drink eventually became Paati’s Panakam, a little venture born from the realisation that something so rooted in tradition could have a place in contemporary life too. Shriya and her husband, Dhruv Sreewastav, began experimenting with it, making videos and sharing the story behind it. The panakam is made without preservatives, which also means it has a short shelf life and cannot simply be transported anywhere.

The banana-walnut dessert has a sweet story too. In Abu Dhabi, Narayanan had a habit of inviting colleagues home for dinner without always giving his wife much notice. Saroja would look through the window, see people arriving and rush into the kitchen to start preparing. Seeing her scramble, Narayanan would eventually step in and make dessert.

The banana-walnut creation became something of his own contribution to their family meals. There was no formal recipe or grand name for it. It was simply something he made over the years. Even after they moved back to Chennai, the tradition continued.

Today, age has slowed him down, but the gesture remains. For Shriya, that dessert is her grandfather’s way of saying, “I love you.”

The meal ends with homemade filter coffee ice cream, with coffee decoction poured over it, followed by paan urunde.

The Travel Edition brings together flowers, dhoop, old songs, traditional South Indian games, stories and conversations around an intimate table of about 10 to 12 people.

“I’ve never enjoyed this much in these supper clubs. When I was in Abu Dhabi, there were a lot of gatherings, but I never enjoyed this much as I did in supper club, because these little kids, they eat my food and say such beautiful things to me and they’ll be happy,” Saroja says.

If she had to choose one dish that she particularly enjoys watching people eat, she says it would be the coffee ice cream because of the reactions it gets. But then there is also her rasam, something she makes almost every day, and the pleasure of seeing a guest’s eyes widen after tasting it.

Thatha, meanwhile, is less interested in choosing a favourite.

“Every dish she gives me,” he says.

His earliest food memory is “Morr Sadam”.

The supper club is deliberately intimate. Only around 10 to 12 guests sit around the table. There are traditional South Indian games, conversations, stories and, of course, food. But the intention is not to rush people through a restaurant-style meal. The idea is to create the feeling of being inside a family home.

Guests arrive as strangers and, ideally, leave knowing a little more about one another. They spend time with Paati and Thatha, hear the stories behind the dishes, play games and share a few laughs, says Shriya.

That intimacy is important because Saroja is the one doing the cooking. The family helps, but the food remains hers. At an age when many people might be expected to slow down and step away from the things they have spent their lives doing, Saroja is still cooking food she loves and waiting to hear the feedback from people who taste it. Narayanan is still by her side, no longer able to do everything he once did, but still helping where he can, cutting bananas and adding his own little touch to the table. For more details and bookings, visit the Paati, Thatha & Pethi’s Supper Club Instagram page.