Tell me a story. In a restaurant

Representation pic

How many of us can recall a hearty meal in a community-themed restaurant, because the lip-smacking traditional fare was devoured over fascinating stories and anecdotes that were centered on that same community? This columnist was lucky to have had one such engaging session recently at Cafe MommyJoon in Bandra. Egged on by positive reviews, I dropped by this cosy nook off Linking Road with a fellow foodie whose Iranian genes made the experience all the more enriching.

We spotted hints of traditional decor that one would possibly find in a Persian home; the turquoise-and-white mosaic-tiled table tops were a salute to the region's famed tile art. No surprises that the ambiance got the vote of this meat-loving Anglo Indian even before the meal began. We tucked into Borani spinach (a heavenly mezze dish made from spinach, onion and garlic, and blended in yoghurt topped with walnut and raisins), Barbari bread (Persian flatbread) and Kabob koobideh (barbecued ground lamb kabob skewers). Amidst the heady aromatic flavours that wafted across, we were able to hold on to the strains of peppy Iranian music that somehow held its own despite the consistent buzz, courtesy our fellow diners that comprised an interesting mix -- there were families, yuppies representing Bandra's Richie Rich junta, and a bunch of animated white-collared corporates chilling over platefuls of polow (pulao), Iranian chai and later, baklava, as a takeaway.

Looking around, we noticed that the space was also offering merchandise on sale, from the region, including ornate and ceremonial tea sets with traditional motifs, as well as home decor knick-knacks. On a Friday night, this was a priceless snapshot of happy (and very sated) patrons enjoying an uncommon cuisine. "My father would have smiled if he saw this," my dining companion remarked, as we scanned the packed house. Regaled by stories of family recipes and ingredient trails, and hilarious nuggets about early Iranian Zoroastrians adapting to tropical Bombay, I felt like a fly on the wall, buzzing around in a market in Shiraz, even if it was a temporary fantastical trip.

When the piece-de-resistance, Mahiche (lamb shanks served with dill rice and assorted veggies), arrived in a humongous serving dish at our table, I imagined it would easily be a meal fit for royalty. Slowly but surely, we had attained gastronomic nirvana; never mind that we were stuffed by our previous indulgences. It was nearing Cinderella hour, and yet, the place was abuzz. Surely, it wasn't just because it was the weekend.

The handful of restaurants that boast of community-driven fare exude pretty much the same mood - be it enjoying the sound of a crisp dosa crackle before devouring it in an Udipi or biting into succulent butter chicken while being seated on a charpai in the al fresco section of Dadar's Pritam da Dhaba. Cafe MommyJoon, we're happy to report, has rightfully earned its place in this small group. Unfortunately, there are far and few of this template in a city that is often dubbed as a melting pot of communities. While home chefs are doing their bit to keep the community cuisine flag flying high, they are limited by logistics and high costs in an expensive city. In fact, the pandemic and the ensuing lockdowns witnessed a resurrection of sorts for this enterprising tribe.

The city deserves a lot more thought and inspiration from its famed and popular chefs and restaurateurs. Perhaps, they ought to look more inward instead of playing catch-up with or trying to ape what Michelin-starred spaces are serving, or worse, being preoccupied by designing their spaces that resemble soap opera sets than sit-down restaurants? Have they lost the plot somewhere between the Atlantic and the seven-island city? Any world city that prides itself as a culinary hub, while boasting of global cuisine restaurants, must also represent its local flavours, and in Bombay's case, its envious diversity. How many East Indian restaurants do we have? And are there a sufficient number of eateries that are solely dedicated to Koli fare? Is Bohri or Kokani Muslim food easily available beyond home chef-driven menus?

Community restaurants can be a portal that adds layers around lesser-known legacies, offering it to a wider, captive audience, using food at the centre. No doubt, the music, the decor, the cutlery, all made it a doubly memorable experience for us that day. In some spaces, we've noticed forced interventions that are mere distractions [read: staff in traditional attire; menus with only two-three authentic dishes that represent the community].

The undeniable reality is that Bombay is woefully short of community-inspired cuisine restaurants, especially when it comes to celebrating those who've built the city, and made it their own after crossing borders. Shakespeare's famous quote comes to mind: "What is the city but the people?" Let's hope 2023 sees a change of approach by some of the big daddies of our restaurant industry, where they are able to stir the somewhat bland (melting) pot, so patrons can celebrate its diversity over a heartwarming meal. And yes, the odd story or two.

mid-day's Features Editor Fiona Fernandez relishes the city's sights, sounds, smells and stones...wherever the ink and the inclination takes her. She tweets @bombayana
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