A Bite of Mylapore in the Bay Area: The South Indian Cafe Serves the Best Dosa On the West Coast
- Through its cuisine, culture, and history, my daughter and I formed a deep connection to the south Indian city’s rich heritage, one that continues to nourish us both physically and spiritually.
My introduction to Mylapore came not through travel guides but through my daughter—and a piping hot dosa. One evening after work, we drove from Walnut Creek to the South Bay to try a place her friends had been raving about: Mylapore Café. The name rang a bell. I vaguely remembered reading about it in school, and after a quick skim through the internet, I surrendered to the charm of their authentic Mylapore dosa, paired with vegan, jaggery-sweetened filter coffee. The taste was familiar but fresh and satisfying. Little did I know that this simple meal would open a portal into a world of history, spirituality, and culture
Later that year, around Christmas, my family and I visited Chennai—and one of our stops was Mylapore, or as I learned, its older name, Thirumayilai. I hadn’t realized this bustling neighborhood was one of Chennai’s oldest settlements, steeped in history and heritage. We explored the streets where Tamil philosopher-poet Thiruvalluvar is believed to have been born in 31 BCE. The poet has composed 1,330 couplets. My favorites are: Respect the wise; Fools with all have nothing; and Love is the greatest of all virtues. The area is also sacred to Christians, who believe that St. Thomas the Apostle was martyred here, and his tomb lies beneath the grand San Thome Basilica. Saint Thomas said: Strive to find the truth and understand the divine presence in your life.
The very name “Mylapore” translates to “land of the peacock scream,” a poetic nod to the peacocks that once thrived in the area—and whose graceful forms are still immortalized in temple architecture, especially in the iconic Kapaleeshwarar Mahadev Temple built in 7th century AD by the Pallavas. This temple with its 37-meter gopuram is awe-inspiring and an important place of worship for the Hindus. As we drove through the narrow busy streets, I saw how deeply faith and tradition are incorporated into daily life. People paused to pray before images of saints, bowed their heads near small shrines tucked between shops, and carried puja items in brass containers.
The very name “Mylapore” translates to “land of the peacock scream,” a poetic nod to the peacocks that once thrived in the area—and whose graceful forms are still immortalized in temple architecture, especially in the iconic Kapaleeshwarar Mahadev Temple built in 7th century AD by the Pallavas.
One family member was keen to visit the Lakshmi Pooja Stores, a family-run business since 1920 that sells pooja items, ethnic foods, pickles, oils, and ethnic paraphernalia. It was open late, and offered service with a smile. I was exhausted from the long day trip, so I didn’t get out of the car. I shared biscuits with our chauffeur and my grandson as we took in the atmosphere and shared stories from Tenali Rama and Malgudi Days by R. K. Laxman.
And yet, despite being so close, I left Mylapore without eating the authentic dosa I had hoped for. But as luck would have it, Mylapore Café soon opened a branch in San Ramon. We went there almost immediately and were delighted to find $6 dosas for the happy hour in the evenings, fluffy Kanchipuram idlis with a generous helping of tomato chutney, authentic sambar, Filter coffee served a flourish, and even dosamix to take home. The polite manager, (a Tamil Christian?), confessed that he was not as enamored by the cuisine—having had surfeit of it—but for us, it felt like a culinary blessing.
Now, it’s a part of our routine. Twice a week our car seems to automatically steer toward Mylapore Café. We invite friends for brunch on weekends. We go early because the small restaurant gets so busy that we feel as though we are in Chennai. Regardless, the Mylapore flavors have entered our kitchen and our hearts. What started as a craving for dosa became something more: an entry point into the vast, rich world of Mylapore. We’ve since read more about its ancient port, once bustling with Roman trade; about the katcheri (courtly) season, where Carnatic music legends like M.S. Subbulakshmi first mesmerized audiences; and about its unique role in shaping Chennai’s intellectual and cultural landscape.
We now understand that a katcheri is not any concert—it’s a centuries-old tradition that blends devotion with artistry. We’ve grown to appreciate that this neighborhood, once frequented by travelers like Marco Polo and chronicled by Ptolemy, is not just a historical footnote but a living, breathing place.
Mylapore has become more than just a word in our mouth or a place—it’s now a meaningful part of our lives. It is by far the best dosa on the west coast that we have tried. Tasty, crispy, wholesome, and deeply satisfying. Through its cuisine, culture, and history, we’ve formed a deep connection to its rich heritage, one that continues to nourish us both physically and spiritually.
With one foot in Huntsville, Alabama, the other in her birth home, India, and a heart steeped in humanity, Monita Soni writes as a contemplative practice. She has published hundreds of poems, movie reviews, book critiques, and essays, and contributed to combined literary works. Her two books are My Light Reflections and Flow Through My Heart. You can hear her commentaries on Sundial Writers Corner, WLRH 89.3 FM.