Karta
kar·tha, noun
The doer. The one whose hands make it happen.
Behind every flavour is a place, a practice and a doer who kept it alive. Before there was a recipe, there was a pair of hands.
Manduva-style South Indian kitchen
Five southern states, cooked in clay and ground on stone. Served in a Manduva house in Hitec City.
kar·tha, noun
The doer. The one whose hands make it happen.
Behind every flavour is a place, a practice and a doer who kept it alive. Before there was a recipe, there was a pair of hands.

Farmers of Telangana's red soil and the Kaveri delta. Jowar, rice, chillies and millets, picked in their season.

Grandmothers who never wrote a recipe down. Their measures live in our kitchen, by the handful and by the smell.

Potters who turn the clay vessels we cook and serve in, each one seasoned by hand before it meets the fire.

Fishermen of the backwaters and the Coromandel coast, landing the morning's catch on the shore.
Tradition isn't followed. It is carried forward, one pot, one stone, one fire at a time.
Some flavours need a little more time. Our curries rest and deepen in unglazed clay, the way they did in a village kitchen.
Masalas are pounded fresh on the rolu and the tirugali every morning. Some flavours aren't meant to come from a packet.
No shortcuts. No rushing the pot. Every pot is given the time it needs, and every flavour is allowed to deepen.
Our curries rest and deepen in unglazed clay, the way they did in a village kitchen.
Masalas are pounded fresh on the rolu and the tirugali every morning.
No shortcuts. No rushing the pot.
Good ingredients know where they come from. So do we.
The Manduva
In old Godavari homes, the manduva was the open courtyard everyone gathered around. Ours has carved pillars, terracotta walls and long tables built for sharing.
Visit
Walk in most days. For six or more, or for Sunday lunch, call ahead and we will keep the long table for you.