ISMAIL Merchant could have been born in New York and made films in Bollywood, he would have been equally successful - perhaps, more. He is energy plus, and he carries his enthusiasm with him wherever he goes. At 1.30 in the afternoon, he carried it into Trishna, Bombay's most famous crab and pomfret restaurant, in Ropewalk Lane, behind the Prince of Wales Museum. He had picked the restaurant, not I. "I love their fish, love the way they do it, the pomfret particularly," he said, talking of the pomfret with the same reverence he shows Henry James.

By now everybody knows that he is as famous a cook as he is a film-maker. Ismail Merchant is not the type to hide his talents behind the kitchen sink. He has produced several recipe books (Passionate Meals, the new Indian cuisine for fearless cooks and adventurous eaters is the latest) and is second only to his star, Madhur Jaffrey, as a cookbook writer.

Trishna's waiters are used to celebrities, from Imran Khan to the President of Greece, the producer of Cotton Mary they could take in their stride. The crabs were brought out, like vintage wine, held up for our inspection. Live and with talons hooking the empty air. "Crab ka naam kiya hai?" asked Merchant, who as a boy in Bombay used to accompany his father to the Null Bazar Market for the daily bazar. The waiter smiled - the CEO of Enron had never asked him that. "Let's call him Clinton," said Merchant, helping out the poor man. "From now on he shall be known as Clinton. He is very fond of food, Indian food. Perhaps, you could invite him here. Oh, he would love it."

Ismail Merchant certainly loves the place. "Yes, I've been here before. I think Anil Dharker brought me here the first time. Since then I've been coming here almost every visit. There's another good fish place at Tardeo... that's right, Only Fish. They make an excellent hilsa, with mushrooms and mustard."

He was already ordering. "Lobster, chilli-garlic, no, make that butter-pepper, dal Hyderabadi, and get some Goan fish curry... all right, Manglorean fish curry, and garlic naan, roomali roti, tandoori. And could we have an orange juice or something like that? All canned! Then fresh lime and soda, sugar, not salt."

Orders over, he talked of the Merchant-Ivory retrospective. "Jefferson In Paris, Soldier's Daughter, The Proprietor, all being shown for the first time here, and they did not even review them. How many of the retrospectives did you manage to see?" I pretended I was studying the new annexe to the restaurant in which we were sitting. It is made in the shape of a hull, and there's brass on the table. But it is still Trishna, nothing fancy.

Happily, my interrogation on Ismail Merchant's films was interrupted by the tava fried pomfret stuffed with green masala. The pomfret's central bone had been removed and the space filled with the fresh coriander ground with onions, coconut and a dash of jeera, mixed with lime juice and vinegar. The fish had a slightly burnt crust, giving it a smokey flavour, and the rest of the meat was crisp with the tava frying, contrasting with the freshness of the coriander. Mr. Merchant was reminded of the pompino in Florida, somewhat similar to our pomfret, and grilled with mint sauce. "I add chillis to the mint sauce," said the chef.

The lobster, pepped up with chilli and garlic, had a gelatine texture about it. I loaded my fork and pushed it into my mouth. Ismail Merchant was using his hands, making a round ball of the lobster meat, wrapping the flakey garlic naan around it. He was completely at home, kurta, pajamas, chappals - but then he was home. And he talked about his favourite American food. Turkey, and all that went with it, mashed potatoes with cream, lots of parsley, cranberry sauce, Brussells sprouts steamed with butter sauce. And the soul food of the south, Mexican food, black-eyed beans. New England clam chowder was the best. And Durban Park in Boston, that was the place to go to for roast beef and baked potatoes. Finally, "Do you like mango trifle. My niece makes it, I can eat a whole bowl and go to sleep. Sir, could I have another tandoori roti?"

The roti came, and king crabs that looked like pink cakes, sitting on the table. We put on our dark blue bibs, supplied by Trishna, got hold of our cutters, our bone marrow spoons, and got busy. (Sabira and Chotu Merchant keep their own monogrammed bibs, hammers, etc. at the restaurant, and use them when they eat crabs. They do it in style.) Trishna sells three types of crabs, tandoored, sukha and masala. These are the basic, but they also have them Szechwan, with kala miri, chilli garlic, in wine sauce, with just salt and butter. The less that is added to the crab, the more natural the meat tastes, and there is no better tasting meat in the world than crab. Lobster's more aristocratic, but crab is fun. They crack the crab in the kitchen and give you, or you crack it yourself. I had the kitchen do the work for me, Ismail Merchant was using his two hands and teeth. This is the man who also makes the most genteel Victorian movies.

What kind of Indian food did he like? "Bengali, I once had chingri with mustard sauce, Cameraman Subra Mitra's mother made it, with lemon, mustard, garlic, a little chilli powder, and turmeric, so subtle. I like the way the Gujaratis make the green beans, with coconut, bayleaf, curry patta here, kala jeera, shahi jeera. And the Punjabi maa ki dal. I have introduced lemon lentil. Put lemon juice and also half the lemon rind in the lentil, do tarka with olive oil. Use masoor, it's the quickest to cook. I also make a chicken with ginger and mustard sauce. Dijon. You have to have very good mustard for this. I put slices of green chillis in the chicken. And I make a very good pasta sauce, with mince meat and tomatoes, lot of garlic, ginger. I use pesto with fish, meat, spaghetti, everything. Sir, what about the dal and the fish curry? And change the plate, please."

The Hyderabadi dal came with fluffy steamed rice, Nilgiri. People talk about Trishna's crabs, I say their command item is the Hyderabadi dal. It is thick with aromatic spices that you push to the side of the plate in order to eat the dal. It has the flavour of a thick masala dal and the consistency of a watery tur dal. It is magic. Ismail Merchant talked of the magic of the restaurants of his youth in Bombay. "Purohit, Berry's, Leopold on the Causeway, they made an excellent pasta, and they had this juke-box, the first in town, chaar anna dalo, gaana suno, Nanking was our hangout, and baked beans at Gaylord, Pyrkes had good biryanis, and what wonderful coffee with cream at Bombelli's, sit in the garden and gossip."

We could have gossiped some more, but we had to return to work, I to write, he to make films. But before that - "Sir, can I have a kulfi. You don't get that in New York."

Crab butter-pepper salt

What makes A Master Chef?

Ismail's Choice