By the time the sun began to set, we were sitting under a tree at Ervana Wildfarms, eating freshly roasted corn and sipping tea. A few hours earlier, we’d turned off NH44 on the Kurnool–Bengaluru stretch for lunch at Sila, a farm-to-table restaurant on this 100-acre property in Rayalaseema. Now, with warm cups in our hands, we watched the sky change colour over the Erramalla Hills. Every time I thought we’d seen the last of the light, the sky had another shade to give us. It was one of the best sunsets I’d seen in a long time.
It was on a pleasant day when this long drive with a friend was planned. The intention was to visit this amazing new resraurant we heard of – Sila by Ervana Wildfarms. We soon learnt it was not your usual highway pitstop that served food. Sila comes with an experience and a story.
The drive towards Kurnool and beyond is always fascinating with long stretches of hills and the natural rock formations offering stunning views.
Amidst this scenary stands a grand stone doorway set against expansive blue of the day sky.
As you enter the spacious dining area via a porch you begin to absord and appreciate various elements that contribute to the understated elegance –
the glass-walled dining room with a small pool at its centre, for example has a light installation shaped like a giant bird’s nests hung above the water.
For a 150-seater restaurant, the room felt remarkably simple. The stone, the water and the view did most of the work. Beyond the glass was a sunflower field.
Then I saw the outdoor seating and learnt it was dog-friendly. I was already picturing a long drive with my family and our golden baby. She’d love it here.
A restaurant built from the land
Sila’s founders, Apuroop Arja and Prathyusha, had pictured a small café where they could feed friends who came to the farm. Research trips into the interiors of Rayalaseema got them looking more closely at the region’s architecture and the stone that came out of its quarries. They spent eight months looking for the pink limestone they wanted. It came from a hard upper layer that quarries usually discard to reach the stone below. Local workers cut, shaped and laid it by hand.
I’d noticed the slight unevenness of the floor as I walked in. Hearing how long it had taken to source and lay that stone made me look at it again adding character to Sila thats aptly named after a rock in Sanskrit.
Apuroop Arja and Prathyusha
The farm has a longer history. Apuroop, who previously worked in data and agri-commodities, returned to land his family had farmed for three generations. Years of chemical farming had left the soil depleted. In 2016, he was introduced to permaculture and started with a small vegetable patch for family and friends. Today, seven percolation tanks and a one-acre rain-fed pond help irrigate the farm and support wildlife. Apuroop says the property is now home to more than 70 deer. Peacocks can also be spotted on a farm walk.
A Rayalaseema lunch
The vegetables come from the farm. Much of the food comes from memories of growing up eating Rayalaseema home cooking, and women from nearby villages have helped shape the menu with their recipes and techniques. Bellavaram chicken vepudu and Rayalaseema chicken curry draw on local culinary traditions. The menu also has the combinations you’d find at a family table, from gongura pappu with ragi sangati to gutti vankaya kura with jonna rotte, gongura mamsam with bagara rice and natukodi with ragi sangati plus the usual favourites of a multicuisine restaurant.
I liked that the pairings got as much attention as the dishes. The jonna rotte is part of the pleasure of eating the stuffed brinjal, just as ragi sangati belongs with the country chicken. Millets, brinjal and gongura tell you something about how people here have cooked through long dry seasons. The kitchen softens the chilli heat a little, so there’s room to taste the sourness of the gongura and the earthiness of the millets.
Apuroop and Prathyusha are now thinking about small stays built in stone and a space where Rayalaseema’s puppeteers and other folk performers can find a paying audience closer to home. For now, there’s already enough here to spend an afternoon.
I’d stop at Sila for lunch on another drive to Bengaluru. On the day I bring my family, though, I’ll leave the evening free. I want them to have time for the walk, the corn and that last cup of tea.
