Those who say that you can’t go back in time have not been to Kolkata. Specifically, they haven’t stepped into Paramount, a century-old sherbet shop. The idea of a vintage establishment selling only sherbets may appeal to millennials and wet-behind-the-ears food bloggers. But for those in the know, Paramount’s legacy is as solid as the city’s undying romance with the past. There is nothing new here. Just the way some things are meant to be.
Set up by Nihar Ranjan Majumdar when nationalism was peaking and Bengali entrepreneurship was in its glory days, this unremarkable room, with its wooden benches and refreshingly indigenous sherbet, was a top draw among the intellectual elite. Off the book hub of College Street and just like the famous Coffee House, just a few minutes away, Paramount was a meeting place for revolutionaries and reformers, including Subhas Chandra Bose. Over endless servings of daab (tender coconut) sherbet — Paramount’s most popular offering, the recipe for which was said to have been prepared by scientist Prafulla Chandra Ray — Bose strategised ways and means to overturn British rule. The secret recipe has since been fiercely guarded by two generations of the family.
At this humble establishment, you are likely to be greeted by a woman at the counter, and a male member of the Majumdar family. Eight members of the family take turns to manage Paramount and they ensure that whenever a guest comes in, there is always a place to sit, a sherbet to sip, as well as a generous view of the walls of pride — newspaper clippings and the long list of patrons including sportspersons, political leaders, authors, film-makers, revolutionaries, famous stuntwomen and many more. Among them is the legendary dancer Amala Shankar, wife of Uday Shankar, who turns 100 this year. Among the younger ones are Arundhati Roy and Sourav Ganguly.
Unlike a coffee shop or a hipster juice bar, Paramount values quietude. This is no place to meet up with friends over adda. People walk in, have their sherbets, speak in hushed tones, occasionally exchange notes with the Majumdar family about their memories, and walk out. This is not your Instagram-worthy hang-out. Just a place that takes its sherbets as seriously as the antlers on the wall. Which is why you will never get even as much as a biscuit or a fistful of nuts to accompany the drink.
“We have never really felt the need to change the menu other than introduce the passion fruit sherbet and mango mania,” says Partho Pratim Majumdar, who along with sister Baishali Sen, is in charge of the outlet the day we drop in. Besides the iconic daab sherbet (₹50), there are other frontrunners such as the green mango and mango mania sherbets.
It is easy to see why Paramount has insulated itself from change. The city is home to a large number of senior citizens, as well as NRIs who come home to nurture nostalgia. One doesn’t mess with familiarity in Kolkata. Every few minutes, the shop hosts a patron who is reliving memories. “ Ami colleger shomoy ashtam (I used to come during my college days),” a visitor tells the owners, who smile knowingly. The younger clients drop by to avoid rising temperatures and to savour a quiet tumbler of daab sherbet while poring over a book.
But change has found a toehold at Paramount; the outlet has a social media presence, and is available on food delivery apps. “But, honestly, people prefer to have their sherbets fresh. This is not something you can enjoy from a plastic or paper cup, 30 minutes after it has been prepared,” says Majumdar. That’s not all. The family believes profit margins have been affected by the profusion of mobile towers in the region. Bengal, one of the largest producers of tender coconuts, has improved its yield quantitatively (according to government data, the state produced 372.23 million coconuts in 2014-15, an increase of 1.4 million from the previous year). But the quality of the yield has fallen, say the Majumdars. They blame the fall on the indiscriminate installation of mobile phone towers but don’t qute explain how that happens. “Earlier, you would get a good quality nut for ₹25, now you need to pay at least ₹40 for a decent piece that has the right balance of sweet water and tender flesh.”
Nonetheless, the family is in no rush to change — the youngest members are most likely to get into the family business “as soon as their studies are over”. The daab sherbet continues to quench every patron’s thirst for nostalgia. And service is unlikely to go the Starbucks way. You will never have the pleasure of having your name written on your cup -- as is the norm in many of the coffee chains. It will, however, have the distinctive taste of Paramount written all over it.
Chandrima Pal is a freelance writer based in Kolkata