In the Bombay of my youth, everybody had his favourite Irani restaurant. Mine were several.

Asiatic at Churchgate was one of them. It occupied the space of the present Asiatic Department Stores, so you may imagine how large it was. The waiters wore black waist-coats, though underneath and below that they were dressed as well or badly as any Irani waiters. The main service was tea and mutton samosas, and few customers ate beyond that. But more than the tea and the food, it was a meeting place for people. You made your appointments at the Asiatic. �See you tomorrow, 5 o'clock at the Asiatic. Okay, make it 5.15. I will be inside, having tea.�

After the Asiatic closed down, the Stadium, on the opposite pavement, was my favourite Irani. It served Parsee food, curry rice on Sundays, dhanshak on Wednesdays, khichri-masoor on Saturdays, etc. Unfortunately, the Iranis sold or let out the place to Mughals, and the kitchen since then has become Muslim-Chinese.

Fountain was my other Irani restaurant. The Sohaili brothers ran it; they were technically not Iranis, they were Bahais. Over-brewed tea and bun-maska was the standard fare. Now it serves steaks and strawberry-crush and something called rainbow rice.

The Ideal, in the burnt-down Alice Building, at the head of Gogha Street, was in size larger than even the Asiatic. Its speciality was the steamed pudding, and, if you were passing by Ideal, you had to step in and eat it. In any case, it cost just 25 paise, so you could afford it. In those days, you could have tea, bun-maska, pudding, tip the waiter, and still have some change left in your rupee.

Some Iranis still exist, New Empire and Excelsior for instance, but they have changed, either given out part of their premises, or started selling hamburgers, or lost pride in their places. To visit one of them now is quite depressing, it is like visiting a friend who has gone old and retired. Or it is like visiting Metro, what it was then (every seat a cool retreat), and what it is now, showing Hindi films.

For a long time now I have not visited the two Iranis in Byculla. I wonder if they have maintained their standards. They were both famous for their breads, Regal its brun, Byculla for its bun. The brun, especially if you had it first thing in the morning, was crackling with freshness, the butter melting on its still warm sides. The bun had little biscuits on its top, and cherries and marzipans inside.