Here's how Irani cafe's are adapting to the times while maintaining old-school culture

At 9 am on a Monday, Dhobi Talao's iconic Kyani & Co., is moderately full. The crowd's a mixed bag – families, the odd couple, an old Parsi gentleman… They've ordered a double decker sandwich, mutton pattice, kheema pao, omelette pao, pastries in bright colours… There's a packed fridge of aerated drinks, and glass displays of succulent chicken lollipops, cheesecakes, mawa muffins, rum bars, chocolate balls, and varieties of biscuits in glass jars.

Not entirely what Irani cafés originally dished out.

Along with reputation, the 1904 eatery is also now propped up by two red pillars, erected to withstand the furious shocks of Metro Line construction happening underneath. The rest of the decor, however, resembles the quintessential Irani tea shop that harkens to an era when Mumbai was 'Bombay'. Burmese teak wood tables with Italian marble tops covered in checkered cloth, Belgium bentwood chairs, vintage posters, black-and-white vistas of the city, a grandfather's clock, mosaic floor, mirror panelled walls and pillars... For heritage buffs, this is a goldmine. For millenials, this may feel like being stuck in time warp.

From Kyani's, the slow-peeling facade of Bastani on the opposite side of the road is visible when seated on the right side. This rival, and original creator of the 'No commandments' (No combing, No address enquiry, No leg on the chair....), shut shop over a decade ago, after a family quarrel. The 87-year-old Meheraboon Rashib Gourabian, who co-owned the 1923-old Britannia Café at Ballard Estate till his demise in May used to manage it. J Crasto Lane opposite Kyani's connects to S Gaikwad Marg, where next to Famous Trinity Bar here, stood Mumbai's first Irani cafe, Café Wellington. It's now a sanitary and hardware store. At the end of the Dr Cawasji Hormusji Road is Alfred Restaurant & Bar – a bun-maska chai place now adulterated by live orchestra and alcohol.

The future of Mumbai's Irani cafes thus seems bleak. City historian Deepak Rao says he once found 350 Irani cafes in a 1950 Mumbai directory thriving at almost every street corner. With the coming of chillya, udipi, fine dining and fast food chains, the numbers have now dwindled to 25. Reasons for the downfall are aplenty. An educated gen-next preferring a high-paying job to monitoring behind a formidable galla (counter). Fast food chains successfully luring old establishments with good money to sell off. For those who prefer fine-dining, Keto-paleo-vegan diet choices, the food options that Irani cafés provide are limiting. Most are certified as Grade III eating houses, and their old-world charm doesn't appeal to all.

Thriving fandom

At the same time, these cafés, which dole out affordable snacks to both the white-collared and the labour class from 7am to (mostly) 6pm, are routine visits for many. Earlier, the working class would come here to breakfast, read the free (Gujarati, Hindi and English) newspapers at every table, adjust their hair in one of the many mirrored walls, before leaving for work. The situation is the same for many even today, their high sales being a case in point. For instance, the 1914 B Merwan & Sons outside Grant Road station runs out of mawa cake, mawa samosa, pudding and custard by 3pm every day. Their mawa cake alone – they make 6,000 a day at the break of dawn – are over by 9:30am on weekends. It's the same story for Marine Lines' Sassasian Boulangerie's cinnamon-and-plum hot cross buns every Good Friday, and their dhansak, chicken puff and mutton pattice, every other day. Afshin Kohinoor, co-owner of Britannia, says their iconic berry pulao (the bar berries, imported from Iran, kill the starch in the rice helping control blood pressure and cholesterol, and spurt tartness when they come under your teeth) brings 50 per cent of the sales. He also points at gifts by patrons: a Mahatma Gandhi portrait by a fan of their veg dhansak, and a statue of their now deceased pet rooster Robin (who figures on their emblem and also starred in Tezaab 1988) who one of the customers doted upon. Patrons of Fort's Café Military know that chai is served daily at 4pm and what the special of the day is. The Irani Muslim Koolar restaurant in Matunga East has a customer from Bengaluru, who co-owner Ali Koolar. claims, flies in 18 of their kheema paos, 50 brun maskas and few omelettes every 5-6th day.

Sarosh Irani, co-owner of B Merwan, recalls how in 2014, when the café shut shop for a month, the public was upset, assuming that the establishment was shut for good. "But one section of our 114-year-old Minton tiles had given way, and a lady slipped and hurt herself and we felt quite guilty about it."

When old faithfuls recall sweet nostalgia about this cafe culture, it warms the heart. Like Rao's own brun maska and chai memories began at age five at Sassasian's, a stone's throw from his home. He recalls smooth-talking the father of the current owner Meheraban Kola to use the shop telephone for ringing up potential love interests. Later, his curiosity to master horse riding made him land up at 5am to lap up tips from the jockeys and race horse trainers who'd gather to breakfast here before heading to the Mahalaxmi racecourse. Today, the 70-year-old is full of trivia: Fort's Yazdani bakery was a Japanese bank till the World War II. Lucky's gives you extra rice or a meat pieces with its famous biryani, if you ask nicely. Next to Paltan road police station, there's a restaurant called Irani-Like, as perhaps, the owner was clueless about what to call it even while having it registered!

((From left) Irani restaurant owners Afshin Kohinoor of Britannia & Co., and Mrs Khosravi of Café Military. Pic Credit: Salman Ansari/DNA , Ornella D'Souza/DNA )

"Irani cafes thrived in the Dadar-Parel-Lalbaug-Girgaum belt. Any friend coming over, was told naakewade, Iranikade bhet (meet me at the Irani shop on the corner)," recalls Rao. "The Iranis don't believe in 'cutting chai', and were okay with one cup split by two. The 'no sitting for a long time' on the board means 'sit for a long time'." And with Kyani's and Basanti's, customers changed their loyalties every day! "One day, we'd try Kyani's khari biscuit and the next day, Bastani's khari biscuit," recalls Rao, a Bastani patron.

But veteran journalist and film critic, Rafique Baghdadi, who conducts heritage walks around Irani cafes in association with with the Alliance Française, votes for Kyani's because "Bastani was always too dark". He credits Iranis with giving Mumbai a restaurant culture as the aam janta only had chaiwalas and khanawalis (women who catered to paying guests) back then. "The Irani chai is kadak (strong), pani kum (less water) and not nearly as milky as the chillya chai," says the Mazgaon resident, who grew up in the vicinity of cafe William (now defunct), Pine (now serves North Indian and oriental cuisine) and what is now the popular Wibbs Bakery, and enjoyed his mutton stew cream chop and profanities from the owners, equally. "The greatest contribution of Irani cafés to Mumbai is promoting Indian music, because they were the first to get the jukebox."
But Baghdadi feels Irani cafes won't stay for long. "Already documentaries are being made on how the Irani cafés are dying out..."

The establishments agree they are walking a tightrope. "We are just dragging on because we are emotionally attached to this place," says Koolar, who, usually with his brother and their typical Iranian hot-headedness, are a laugh riot. With Britannia's 99-year-old pagdi-system lease with the landlord (the Scindias) expiring last July, owner Afshin Kohinoor, says the future of the establishment is on shaky ground as the lease is yet to be renewed. "I want to renovate this place but I've to get an NOC from the landlord and Bombay Port Trust. But what's the point if I lose my property?"

Though in Kyani's case, says owner Farokh Shokriye, the pagdi-system works because his lease has no deadline. So despite its location at D-Ward – the lowest populated belt in Mumbai – his rent is incredibly low compared to what eateries in the suburbs have to cough up.

But given Britannia's predicament, Shokriye wants the government to issue a separate heritage tag to Irani cafés, as done for century-old precincts. "Then no one can throw us out or pull the establishment down. That will give us the right to function for another 100 years." Armed with an LLB and diploma in business management, Shokriye was settle in New Zealand, but like other cafe owners who got entrenched in the restaurant business on finding themselves the sole custodians, he stayed back when all the partners, except his father, died. He took over in 2000, and promised his father he won't sell the business till his last breath. But from his daughter and son, he doesn't expect such promises. "If they find a better opportunity, I won't push them to stay. This place requires passion to run it," Shokriye says, admitting he's skipped on family time and vacations for his responsibilities to the café.

Like Shokriye, what's kept the few surviving cafes alive are its determined owners. Sayad Ali, owner of the Irani Muslim joint, Lucky's, at 78, walks everyday – a good 20 minutes – from his home to the restuarant to oversee operations. Then everyone loves the eccentric 96-year-old Boman Kohinoor, who has something quirky to say to everyone, especially about his recognition by Queen Victoria and how the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, who met with him when they visited Mumbai last year. It's only been three months he's stopped visiting the cafe due to ill health. Like most Irani cafés now recruiting managers to take the load off, Sarosh Irani only opted for this arrangement when he fainted twice a few months ago after daily clocking in 12-14 hours. In Irani's case, the civil engineer joined his family-run B Merwan after he fled Iran to Mumbai when the Shah regime collapsed in the late 1970s. Now he with his cousin brother and sister continue the legacy of their grandfather, father and two uncles. However, all three have daughters, and are skeptical to let them take over the family show, though the women want to. "This is not a women's job. We get drunk and difficult customers, and it's tough to handle them."

But then Mrs Khosravi defies the norm. At 75, after her husband Behram passed away two years ago, she commutes daily in the second class ladies compartment from her home in Mazgaon to oversee her Cafe Military at Fort. Despite her demure appearance in stitched dresses, sitting quietly in one corner to read the Bollywood news supplement, and letting the manager take the lead, she's aware of the workings of the Parsi Irani café. "This month, business is slow because it's Shravan." She unfailingly visits everyday, because "this is the riding horse we've got..."

A slow turnaround

Realising it's not enough to rest on past glory, the café owners trying out new things. "One day, a Parsi customer came up to dad and me and said, 'If you don't change, with all the McDonald's and KFC's coming up, Kyani's will close down'. Those words stayed on my mind," says Shokriye. "Realising the menu only had sandwiches, omelettes, samosa, cold drinks and faloodas – all breakfast dishes – I added new lunch items." He keeps experimenting with the bakery foods, the latest additions being cranberry and blueberry cakes, and 'authentic' Iranian chicken and mutton kebabs.

While Kola will start serving authentic Irani chai again, B Merwan's doing R&D over a quirky version of the batata vada. "We're trying out a batata vada bun that will look like our mawa buns, with the potato infused in the bun," says Irani.

(Mahim’s Café Irani Chaii that opened in 2015 is trying to keep the concept of the quintessential Irani café alive )

Then new establishments like 2015 Café Irani Chaii, by filmmaker and doctorate of psychology, Mansoor Showghi Yezdi are resurrecting – or as cynics put it, banking on the fame of – Irani cafés. Unlike many Irani owners, Yezdi has great people skills – greets every customer with a 'God bless you', and offers discounts to foreigners, cyclists (for saving the environment), students, uniform workforce, disabled, and on every festival. Even the name has 'Iranii', one 'I' each for India and Iran, underlined with the flags of both countries. Yezdi, whose father held canteens all over Mumbai including Plaza Cinema that belonged to V Shantaram, has made a documentary on the plight of Irani restaurants. "I want the promote our culture to the world," says Yezdi.

And just like that, in walks one of Lucky's partners with his nephew, who makes and supplies Iranian sweets like baklava to restaurants. They're here to strike a business deal with Yezdi.

Verdict: The bun maska chai are not going anywhere any time soon.