Whisky Water

I have heard of parties where they fill pani puris with single malt scotch, but for the best pani puri in the country I would still go to Kailash Parbat, the busy little Sindhi eatery at the start of First Pasta Lane, Colaba. The masala water, spiked with chilli powder, jeera, imli and rock salt, is chilled, the puri is freshly made and crisp, the size an exact mouthful. The customers stand around the matka; four is an ideal group, enough time for each one to go through his pani puri before the next one comes along. But you may be single and happy. A hole is made in the top centre of the puri with a thumb, and khara bundi is pushed into the hole instead of mung, crisp and crunchy, and tamarind juice and a touch of sugar instead of dates and jaggery - it is the Sindhi way. Then the acupunctured puri dipped into the handi of chilled fire water.

Pop it into the mouth, it explodes into a thousand tastes: the oily freshness of the puri dough, the salty crunchiness of the bundi, the sweet and sour chutneys, the chilled masala water.

Kailash Parbat is a friendly, homely place otherwise also. In the evenings, outside the restaurant, old men sit selling lotus roots they have gathered from the ponds of Ambernath and Vithalwadi.

Pepper Crusted Tuna

Rahul Akerkar is the biggest thing that has happened to cooking in Bombay. Here�s how he makes his black pepper crusted tuna at the Indigo: The meat is taken exclusively from the loin of the tuna, the fillet mignon, the thick muscle above the central bone. The fillet is covered with fresh crushed pepper and pan sauteed, and served with what they call a caponata, a Mediterranean combination of egg plant, celery, caramelised onions, roasted red peppers in red wine. A warm, salady caponata. With white beans and oregano, and topped with a warm dressing of coriander red wine vinaigrette.

The chef will cook the tuna for you, medium rare to rare. Do not instruct him otherwise. The inside has to be underdone, pink, like having a medium rare steak. This is how tuna should be eaten, not overcooked and dry.

Parsi National Anthem

Ideal Corner in Gunbow Street, Fort, has mutton dhansak on Wednesday and Friday afternoons, with two kebabs. Outside Parsi homes and clubs, it is about the best dhansak in town. They use tur dal, and extra methi, plus both pumpkin and brinjal for body. The dhansak masala comes from Fort Market, from a little shop among the rows of vegetable stalls - Umrigar & Sons. Use the lime on the dal, not on the kachumber, that already has vinegar in it.

The masoor gosh, at the same Ideal, is another Parsi national anthem. The full masoor is used, cooked in a juice of meat and bones. You eat it with Zend M. Zend�s bruns. And the onions are full, not chopped kachumbers.

Fish & Chips

At the Wayside Inn on Rampart Row (J. Dubash Marg), Mr. Parvez Patel is still sounding the empire�s last trumpet. Fish and chips is standard fare. The fish is always pomfret, from the same supplier for half a century, the fillets almost flaky because of their freshness, a taste of seaweed and salt still clinging to them. The chips are thick wedges of fried potatoes, not finger chips. You get tartar sauce with that, one boiled vegetable, and the salad bowl moves from table to table, shredded cabbage, cucumber, beetroot, lettuce. To make a complete English lunch in the tropics, begin with spring onion soup and conclude with caramel custard.

Like a summer cloud

The Camembert Dariole is the greatest cheese souffle in the world, and the world is centred in the satellite kitchen of the Zodiac Grill at the Taj Mahal Hotel. It is lighter than a caramel custard, as cheesy as melted Camembert, which in fact it is, like a summer cloud floating over the designer plate. It is warm and lush, different from the cheese souffle that you shove into the oven and it pops up.

Rauf Upletwala�s Raan

A lot of Muslim restaurants serve raan. Persian Darbar at Byculla, opposite Palace Cinema and under the flyover, serves it best. It is the goat�s legs, not lamb�s, and the hind legs, not front. The goats are the Palwa goats bought at the mandi bazar, young goats, kids, not weighing more than 6 to 7 kilos. The meat is tender, white, not red, good to taste, good for health. The leg is broiled, with the bone, then tandoored, grilled, masala-ed. I hold it in my two hands, end to end, then bite into it.