This Kumbakonam Restaurant Offers A Dining Experience Inspired By Ancient Tamil Sangam Poems

I was in Thanjavur, standing beneath the sky-brushing gopuram of the Great Living Chola Temple, carved with the ambition of kings and the patience of sculptors. But to experience this history more immersively, I had to move. So, the UNESCO World Heritage monument was left behind for a 52-kilometre drive to Kumbakonam, once the seat of the Chola empire, when Chennai didn’t yet exist on the map. The journey was to experience a meal long eclipsed by modernity, reimagined from Sangam literature, Tamil’s oldest surviving text. My destination was Mantra Koodam Heritage Resort by CGH Earth, where the alfresco restaurant, Aatrupaduthal, serves a four-course dinner that cookbooks have yet to catch up with.

The Idea That Lit The Fire

Aatrupaduthal is Mantra Koodam’s latest culinary chapter, following the success of its Cholanadu menu that took diners into the kitchens of the Chola dynasty, South India’s longest-ruling empire. Long before Mani Ratnam stirred public memory with Ponniyin Selvan, reviving Chola history that had slipped into footnotes, Executive Chef Kumarasamy Maruthavanan had plated it as Cholanadu cuisine at Mantra Koodam. He drew from the vegetarian traditions of the Vathimal Brahmin community and the non-vegetarian tastes of the Panniyars of Kumbakonam, bringing forgotten flavours into the world of fine dining.

Aatrupaduthal began with a question. “What did our ancestors eat before the Cholas?” recalls Harish Venkatasubramaniam, the Mantra Koodam resort manager, looking back at how it all began three years ago. His search led him to the Sangam texts, a vast body of ancient classical Tamil poetry, where he started tracing the culinary clues of a world long past. The verses spoke of a land shaped by five distinct landscapes: Kurinji, the mountains; Mullai, the forests; Marutham, the fertile farmlands; Neithal, the coast; and Palai, the arid plains. Each region had its own lifestyle and distinct food traditions. Harish was intent on honouring all five, ensuring that each landscape found its voice on the plate. The research gradually moved from paper to palate, taking shape in the experienced hands of Chef Maruthavanan. Together, they brought Aatrupaduthal to life, a way to experience Tamil hospitality and culture, as the name translates.

Alfresco Fine Dining

I walked from the reception along the path that led to the banks of the Veera Chozha River, where Aatrupaduthal is set. This open-air, sixteen-seater restaurant accepts only pre-booked guests, preserving the intimacy of the experience. The setting is simple yet refined. No ornate walls, but trees swaying with the breeze make an animated backdrop. No live music either, but the sound from the river nearby, swollen with the season’s first rain, set the scene. Four candlelit tables sit beneath four leaf-thatched roofs, each laid with the grace of fine dining. An open kitchen stands a few steps away, its choreography on full display. 

Salad And Starters

The food from the old Tamil country, which once stretched beyond today’s Tamil Nadu to parts of present-day Kerala and southern Karnataka, arrived at our table one by one. All three menus—vegetarian, meat, and seafood—began with the same salad, a mix of groundnuts, bottle gourd, and grated coconut tossed in a lemon-pepper dressing, with just enough acidity to wake up the palate.

The meat starters opened with quail, fried in ghee and flavoured with sesame. Then came the grilled chicken, its flavour heightened by ginger and shallots. The mutton was served two ways, one portion grilled to perfection, the other cooked with a spiced foxtail millet masala. The seafood selection included squid, mackerel, and tiger prawns, each grilled with a spice mix. There was crab too, grilled until just tender. The vegetarian spread included grilled country vegetables, crisp raw banana fritters with coconut chutney, steamed rice dumplings with ginger and mango relish, and a rice-lentil pancake made memorable by a jaggery-butter spread.

Main Course

On the meat menu, the mutton paired with aromatic short-grain rice was the showstopper. A second version of mutton followed in the form of a curry that leaned on ginger flavour. The country chicken was stewed in a mellow fennel-based sauce. On the seafood menu, the mutton rice gave way to murrel fish. Anchovies arrived in a coconut-rich stew, while the prawns, cooked in a pepper and cumin sauce, were bold but balanced. The vegetarian course came with a twist—a rice preparation with yam and mushroom, and the revelation that mushrooms were used in those times was surprising. A millet pancake with horse gram gravy and a drumstick curry appeared across all three menus. The coconut-based gravy of potato and a broad bean and groundnut stew rounded out the meal, each dish modest but memorable.

Dessert

The dessert course was shared across all three menus, but that didn’t make it any less distinctive. A halwa made from kodo millet and jaggery arrived first, comforting without being overly sweet. The foxtail millet payasam followed, lightly sweetened by liquorice and rock candy. Then came the black urad dal cooked in thick palm jaggery syrup, a dish that didn’t hold back on sweetness. The final offering was a steamed cake made from moong dal, jaggery, and grated coconut that felt like a thoughtful sign-off.