Column

The Spectator

Ah Mumbai, why do I love thee — let me count the ways.

Butter garlic crab at Trishna, the garlic chopped thick, the butter dripping off the sides, the crab meat soft and sweet like a childhood secret when you get to it. Accompanied by fiery red, crisp and succulent Koliwada prawns, followed by surmai in black pepper, dark and angry, eaten with basmati rice, each grain a gem, and then the restaurant’s legendary Hyderabadi dal — a meal on its own, the tanginess of kokum, the robust flavours burning your throat as you drink it straight from the cup...

Or dahi batata puris at Swati, the imli-laced yogurt making you weak at the knees, followed by pani puri, crisp and mouth-watering, followed by the delicately flavoured pankhi, as precious as antique lace under your fingers, accompanied by sugar-cane juice so sinful it’s a surprise that it’s legal, and then the jalebis eaten with a ripe green chilly… heaven on a plate…

Or oysters and foie gras at Wasabi — the taste of angels copulating on your tongue, then a black cod, so fresh it smells of the ocean’s early morning crest, the white fish carpaccio so delicate it conjures up the sweetest saddest yearning even as you eat it...and then the Kobe beef that melts like butter in your mouth, followed by a miso soup that is laced with so many contradictory sensory experiences that you are at a loss to describe it. Never mind, just eat…

And, of course, the hearty wholesome robust cuisine of Samovar — dahi wadas as fluffy as clouds in a summer sky, boti roti rolls that combine the earthiness of wheat with succulent boneless pieces of masala chicken, a prawn curry that makes your eyes water, mutton biryani with an identity all its own eaten with a spoonful of chicken vindaloo…

And Stilton and Brie and Smoked Edam at Indigo Deli, you take a bite of the ripe Stilton, followed by a bite of a black seedless grape, followed by a bite of a perfectly roasted cashew, and washed down with a fine Merlot.

And Sunday brunch at Tiffin — the sushi platter, then the smoked salmon with a crown of whipped cream, then some oysters with a hint of lemon juice and Tabasco, then the eggs benedict reminiscent of New York and saxophones, and, if you believe in living dangerously, some waffles with honey.

Ah Mumbai… you big, fat, gastronomic paradise, you tickler of taste buds you incorrigible foodie…

How much I love thee — and for all the best reasons…

s_malavika@dnaindia.net