Bombay Nostalgia

How denizens of the city ate over the past 25 years. Mohan Krishnan, the knowledgeable foodie gives us a complete restaurant scape

Who remembers the turn of the century? Y2K was going to eat us all. The Dot Commers were still booming, Infosys and Wipro had become global names, and ‘I’ve been Bangalored’ joined the vocabulary. The words ‘new paradigm’ tripped lightly off every plebeian tongue, the newly wealthy Indians came back from their travels with the right ‘excessories’, and yes, tales of Michelin adventure. India was exulting after the first 10 years of a liberalised economy. The consumer was king. And eating out became part of a weekly routine.

The Good Ole Days

Way back, the 5-star hotels were the only game in town if you wanted to get all celebratory and someone else was paying the bill. Some of the restaurants made an impact. Hot scrambled eggs at Shamiana at 4 am on a Sunday morning, the killer dal makhani at Kandahar, the buffet at the Outrigger with a great spread of imported cheeses, the Golden Fried Prawns at G. Drags – Camellia Panjabi’s gift to the universe,
the legendary Camembert Dariole at the Zodiac Grill.

The original Trattoria at The President, with gorgeous pizza, lasagna and Emiliano serenading you with Goan/Portugese melodies. The Library Bar, with Ernie at the mike. Konkan Café and Thai Pavilion, but only when Ananda Solomon ruled the roost. Sea Rock and Centaur had great buffets by the pool side. And the Sun-n-Sand was renowned for its great food and dirty weekends.

Indie Forever

Bombay also had its Indie restaurants – hardy perennials that kept on dishing out great food year after year. No tinkering with their formula. It wasn’t broke, and they weren’t fixing it. These veterans thrive till today, because their food is always brilliant. Here’s a hit parade of some of the Top of the Pops. That darn raan at Khyber; the kebabs at Copper Chimney; Baida Roti and Bhuna Gosht at Bade Miya; Sindhudurg with its Gomantak masalas tempered with hot hot vade; Trishna/Mahesh – the big decision – Butter Garlic Crab in or out of the shell; Butter Chicken at Pritam; the ridiculously good Chicken a la Kiev at Gallops and Gaylord (way better than St. Petersburg or The Russian Tea Room); almost any Chinese restaurant in the city, but especially Ling’s Pavilion and China Garden.

Let’s Meet at The Club

The city’s clubs have also offered up delights, consistently over the years. The Willingdon Club to this day does a delicate Buff Carpaccio, a gorgeous Lobster Thermidor, a decent Kejriwal, Caesar salad with impeccably fresh lettuce, and shockingly tasty dal chawal. The Club at Andheri has great food, thanks to the master hotelier Dinesh Khanna. These two clubs remain the gold standard, but you can count on any club for good sandwiches and spicy Bloody Marys. And who can walk past the bar at the Yacht Club, without sensing the astral presence of Sylvie Da Cunha presiding on the corner bar stool.

The Year 2000

The turn of the Millennium was the turning point for Bombay eating. How appropriate that it saw the birth of UpperCrust. 

Everything had changed with economic liberalisation. It was no longer a sin to be rich. Everyone played the Sensex, higher pay packages, and ESOPs were de rigueur, the MNCs came marchin’ in, and who wasn’t doing a start-up? Bombay went on a spending spree that is still going on, and eating out became a THING that we all did. Lots of the new money flowed into the coffers of vegetarians. Every restaurant upped its veggie game. We saw the democratisation of food culture. No longer did SoBo rule, or the 5-star hotels lord it over the rest. Eating out went mainstream, the standalone restaurants invested in décor, a premium experience, expensive tableware and more suave maître ds, wait staff wore all black, and wine lists made an appearance. Quality may not have become king, but at least it ceased to be the joker in the pack.

AD and Rahul

The independent standalone, high-concept restaurant, made its entry, haltingly at first, and then like a tsunami. It began in Bandra and SoBo almost simultaneously, and two legendary pathbreakers led the charge.  AD Singh with Olive, and Rahul Akerkar with Indigo. Fun fact; both collaborated on Just Desserts in the early 1990’s. Olive and Indigo created the vibrant bar scene, the wine list, the seriously good menu. 25 years later Olive still rocks, with food, flair and a national footprint. Incredible cocktails, seriously good cuisine, a gorgeous series of spaces, one of the early cool restaurant bathrooms, and romantic garden seating.

Rahul blew the world away with Indigo, Indigo Deli, Tote, Neel, Qualia. He’s had a successful and checkered career, always failing up. His new one Ode is the latest hit. Bonne chance! Look at the landscape now. See what these two triggered.

Waterfield Road took off with ZenZi, later closed due to complaining neighbours and BMC action. That one-square mile area has some of India’s finest restaurants and Bandra is now a world-class dining hub. Izumi anyone? Veronica’s s’il vous plaît.

Less than a mile away is BKC, popping with great food and fancy fast food. All these corporate parks have begat great restaurants, both for lunch and the after-work bar scene. O Pedro, Yauatcha, and a continuous lazy Suzy of new openings.

Lower Parel, starting with Palladium, sprouted a rash of restaurants, each making its mark, some staying the course.

Bombay Canteen alone makes the slog through traffic worthwhile. We now have over a dozen major suburbs with over a million people each, buzzing with a full roster of restaurants, covering all the major cuisines. The food is fantastic. Andheri, Powai, Chembur, Goregaon, Malad, Lokhandwala.This is where the new money resides, the MSME success stories, families who have leapfrogged in one generation, and have created their own enclaves of shopping, eating, movie-going and partying.

And what about the Kala Ghoda area – one of the nicest precincts in the world. Samovar – the cultural capital of the city and home of the world’s best kheema paratha, till it was felled by bureaucracy. Trishna was always there, a lone ranger. Kala Ghoda Café created the good food and long lazy afternoon’s vibe, and led the way.

Kala Ghoda is now a traffic-free zone at the weekends – Hallelujah! Maybe we’ll see tables on the streets, and food on tap from the many restaurants in the area. Even vino? How about transforming Horniman Circle? Imagine dining outside, washed by the moonlight, music gently bouncing off our own Piccadilly Circus; every night would be date night. We’ve seen the rise of the ‘foodpreneurs’. Riyaaz Amlani – Social, Smoke House Deli, Slink and Bardot. Gauri Devidayal and Jay Yousuf – The Table, Mag Street in various avatars, and something new up her sleeve. Floyd Cardoz, RIP, who created Bombay Canteen and O Pedro with Sameer Seth and Yash Bhanage. Aditi Dugar and hubby Aditya, with Masque as the flagship, and a whole stable including TwentySeven Bakehouse. Niyati Rao who’s doing a slow burn all the way to the top, with Ekaa, and her spanking new Bombay Daak. The expats have stormed the city. First was Alex Sanchez. Rockstar from the get go. Defined fine-dining for India at The Table. Rolled out the neighbourhood bistro idea with Americano, and has done it again with Otra – Mexico/Puerto Rico/Spain.

Then came Manuel Olveira. La Loca Maria has been setting the city on fire with tapas and the best of Spain. He’s just opened the lushly opulent La Panthera. Both these chefs are here to stay, they now own their restaurants, and they’ve married gorgeous Indian women (Malleyka Watsa and Mickee Tuljapurkar) who are in the business. The latest entrant is Will Aghajanian, who has brought the mojo back to The Table. He’s doing a deep dive into India’s flavours – I can’t wait to see.

These expats are not refugees from recession or stalled careers in the West. Alex has worked at Manresa and Eleven Madison Park. Manuel was an acolyte of Sergi Arola in Barcelona. Will had his own Michelin star at Horses in LA. Their food reflects their pedigree in creativity and quality. I suspect that more expats will show up. I believe Michelin has said a hard No to India. I guess till they say Yes.

What a fine time it is to be an eater in Bombay. Bombay is one city again, thanks to the Sea Link and Coastal Road. The whole city is just 30 to 45 minutes away.  No more ‘needing a visa’ jibes, no more zipcode Nazis.

The Bombaywali wants to explore – Japanese, Bengali, Kerala, North Eastern, Chettiar, Korean, Malvani, Rajasthani, Peruvian … ‘I’ll try anything once’, says she, not ‘I’ll stick to what I know’. There is a demand for quality, and a willingness to pay. We’re travelling abroad, and eating well. No more theplas packed along with jars of pickle, no more 18 meals at McDonald’s.

Our Chefs are Ready. Their Investors are Willing. Why Not?

Theobroma valued at Rs. 3500 crores – proof of concept indeed. There’s a whole new Gen Z of talent pouring out of the chef schools, elbowing their way into internships, staging abroad, slogging their guts out chasing their dream. Bombay is already India’s food capital. It’s ready for a larger role. To filch a line, ‘If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere’.

PS:

Here’s Looking at the Beloved Dead

Paradise, Samovar, Wayside Inn, Excelsior Cinema Café, Tibb’s Frankies on Colaba Causeway, Gourdon, Bombelli’s, Time and Talents Club, Woodlands, MG Café, Touche, Indigo, Moshe’s, Mela… RIP.

And the Ones Truckin’, Thank God

Khyber, Copper Chimney, Ling’s, Bade Miya, Sarvi’s, Sindhudurg, China Garden, Trishna, Mahesh Lunch Home, Pritam da Dhaba, Kailash Parbhat, Gaylord’s, Mysore Café, Gallops, Basilico, Chowpatty/Juhu goodies like Cream Centre...

A Personal Note

Mina – my partner of 56 years and home chef par excellence – and I rose slowly and steadily from the ranks of genteel penury, “lots of posh but no dosh” after we got married in 1971.

Paradise and Wayside Inn. Two temples of good wholesome food, affordable at the beginning of the month. Long gone, but never forgotten.

Paradise on Colaba Causeway. Oh, the mental math. Could we afford the whole nine yards? Mutton broth, Russian salad, fried chicken and caramel custard. Or would we have to trim and share. Thank God the rolls were free. Paradise, now lost, since the children migrated to Canada.

Where the road curves at Kala Ghoda, where Rhythm House once reigned supreme… nestled beside it was the Wayside Inn. The centre table was reserved for Senior Counsel from the High Court, where it is rumored that huge chunks of the Constitution were drafted. If a mere civilian, or a lowly student dared to pull up a chair, the somnolent waiters sprung into action and shooed them away. Arre, the tortured choice – beef steak with onions, or fried fish with tartar sauce. Caramel custard at the end, and in the winter months, a warm pudding, with hot custard poured into the middle.

I worked in advertising, miserably paid, but there was a strong expense- account drinking culture. I was taken to the Harbour Bar, wearing a jacket borrowed from my father, to make a presentation to a very Brit client, while my boss looked on benignly and sipped away at his scotch.

The Harbour Bar; where the old leather sofas smelled like they had been cured in cigar smoke; the bartender knew your name and was quick to ask, ‘The usual, sir’; and if you were three sheets to the wind, drinks were charged to your bill that had never traversed your gullet. Those were the days, my friend.