When Bombay was a feast: A budget gourmet's guide

Indian Express

09-05-2025

My memories of most cities, towns and countries I've visited are inextricably linked to the food I've savoured there – the pillowy flatbread/bazlama in Istanbul, much like naan but better; the grilled meats and big fat oysters in Johannesburg; the golden coconuts of Sri Lanka. But rarely have I come across a city that allowed me to eat as well, and as affordably, as Bombay did, and as Mumbai still does.
I moved to Bombay just as I turned 22 for my post-graduation. I had no idea I was stepping into a food paradise for those living on a shoestring budget. This was at a time we could only afford a plate of chicken – though we were never quite sure it was chicken – hakka noodles for Rs 40 from the MAFCO stall next to college on Warden Road.
If you want a true taste of Mumbai's eclectic food scene without burning a hole in your wallet, here's what I recommend — including a few misses along the way.
Mumbai is truly street food heaven. The city's vast local train network has spawned countless fast-food stalls and vans catering to people perpetually on the move. While I'm a die-hard fan of phuchka and jhal muri in Calcutta, I strongly recommend trying bhel puri here — puffed rice mixed with chopped onions, coriander, nuts, crushed papdi, bhujia, all of which is mixed through with a spicy green chutney and a sweet imli (tamarind) one. It's a meal in a paper cone, available everywhere from beaches to stations and outside colleges, layered with textures which would make even Ottolenghi proud.
For something more substantial, head to one of the many Irani cafés scattered across the city. With their checkered glass-topped tablecloths, fans whirring above your head and elderly, doddering waiters, these places offer a mood. I used to love the keema pao – spicy, bhunoed mutton mince cooked with onions and tomatoes, scooped up with buttered Mumbai pao, and washed down with a chilled soda.
Speaking of pao, I remember being locked out of my cousin's home in Prabhadevi in my first month in the city. She said she would take an hour to return. While I waited for her, I made a meal of the freshly made hot, spicy pau bhaji from a stall below her building. The buns were cut in half, slathered with butter, and heated on a giant tawa. The bhaji – mashed vegetables mixed with spices – were cooking on another part of the tawa. This was slapped onto a steel plate, with a squeeze of lime followed by a dollop of butter smacked onto the bhaji which melted into a pool of high taste and calories for your consumption. I had found pure comfort food for the soul.
Bombay was also the first place I saw dosas being made on open carts. Right outside Sophia College stood a vendor. I had never seen dosa made in this manner; the dosas you got in Calcutta were made in small, clean South Indian establishments. The Mysore masala dosa, flavoured with half a slab of butter, gave us enough energy to travel to Bhayander and back after a full day of college, and still not be tired.
My greatest culinary discovery in Bombay, something I still go back for, is Maharastrian and Malwani seafood. As a Bengali, I believed no one could cook fish as well and in as much variety as us. But the Maharashtrians proved me wrong. The variety and affordability of seafood in spotless restaurants such as Highway Gomantak, Sahiba, Sindhudurg, and the more upscale Gajalee were revelations. One favourite was Soul Fry in Bandra for its fiery seafood, followed by a walk to Gondola for a cooling caramel custard. Malwani curries had tangy coconut bases — never overpowering, just thick enough — and the cuisine featured fish roe, shark, rawas, surmai, pomfret, bangda, crabs, and teesriya/clams masala. If you love seafood, Mumbai is the place for you. The oddity for me as a Bengali was that fish was eaten with roti and not with rice, but I stuck to what I knew.
There were local cult favourites, too. Crystal at Chowpatty, where the advertising crowd hung out, though I was disappointed to be served rajma chawal and gobhi ki sabzi. Naturals for its luscious fruit-topped ice creams. Café Noorani, with its unique take on Mughlai food – the chicken tikka biryani, a delicious mash-up of tandoori tikka and pulao. Colaba's Café Leopold and Mondegar, where beer flowed freely, and you could gorge on steak, chips and chilli beef. And Café Churchill, which is quieter, but with generous burgers and sizzlers, is still a crowd-pleaser.
I still go back to Leopold and Mondegar. I make a ritual stop at Gajalee each time I return to what's now Mumbai. And I'm always relieved to find that my memories of delicious food from simpler times weren't just sentimentality. The food really is that good.
For me, the taste of Bombay is a little hot, a little messy, but full of warmth, spice and unforgettable flavour.
Author of The Sweet Kitchen, and chef-owner of Food For Thought Catering ... Read More