While we could have stayed in and eaten Nilima's home cooking for our entire time in Mumbai, it really didn't seem like a guestly thing to do. So with the invaluable aid of our hosts, whenever we weren't stuffing our faces in their condo, we were stuffing our faces on the streets and back alleys of Mumbai.
One night early on, Shailesh warned me to eat light at dinner. "Tonight you should go out for a second dinner with my nephews. I know the best chicken place in the city."
Second dinner. How could I possibly turn that down?
Around midnight, me and the boys pulled up to Ayub's- a little hole in the wall that was surrounded by about 30 cars, all with people eating off the trunks and hoods. I left the ordering to the locals and tried to keep up with a steady stream of some of the most moist and well seasoned poultry I can remember having in a long while.
Out came marinated chicken bits wrapped in flat bread, smokey chicken shish kebab, tender minced chicken balls, and even some grilled potato for good measure, all accompanied with pickled onions and a couple of spicy, fragrant chutneys.
If they would have sold beer, I might have moved in.
Another day, we were treated to one of my all time favorite indian snacks, the vada pav. I've had quite a few in the US, but none that could compete with version we had at Soam, a little restaurant near Shailesh's office.
The silky patties of mashed potato were fried to a lovely level of crunch, setting up a fine textural treat. Once you squish it between the fluffy yeast rolls smeared with cilantro chutney and bright, lemony masala, you're in for a carb happy grin-fest.
And what goes with a potato sandwich? How about lots of fried green banana chips? Nilima walked us by her favorite frier and we stocked up on spicy chips, sweet tomato flavored chips, peppery chips, and a few more that I don't remember because I ate them all.
Occasionally, we even managed to try some vegetables.
I loved this guy's scales he used as he diligently weighed out some fresh green chickpeas (that you may remember from this salad in an earlier post.)
And I was fascinated to learn about shingoda, a lumpy black mess that looked a lot like truffles but turned out to be a starchy relative of the water chestnut (or possibly a lotus root, depending on who you believe.)
After they're boiled and cut open, their bright white interior has a sweet flavor and a dense, creamy texture similar to a roasted chestnut. They made a nice winter time snack.
Another thing I had never seen before was tadgala. These are young palm fruits, similar to immature coconuts. Once you peel back the papery exterior, the whole middle is a soft refreshing jelly perfect for slurping on. I can't say that I've really had anything like it.
It also happened to be sweet lime season, so there was no way we could pass up a few glasses of fresh pressed citrus. This guy's juicer was really more like a meat grinder and it made short work of a half dozen or so limes, leaving us with big frothy cups of refreshment. I added a few dashes of masala to give mine a little kick of salt and spice.
After Mysore, I was skeptical about sullying my palate with what I suspected would be inferior dosas, but this one drew my eye. It wasn't anything like the dosas we had farther south and I couldn't pass it up because the filling seem to make use of copious amounts of raw grated beet.
Wtf? Who fills a pancake with raw beet?
This guy apparently. While the wrapper was a bit soggy and didn't really hold up, the big mishmash of vegetables in middle were definitely worth the 20 rupees. Note to self: beet pancakes.
Mumbai is particularly famous for a type of chaat called bhel puri. Unfortunately, bhel puri stalls are also famous for gastro-intestinally incapacitating unsuspecting tourists. Hm.
When I told our hosts about my little dilemma, Shailesh, in true Shailesh style, thought for a moment and then announced, "I know a guy."
I'm pretty sure he "knows a guy" for just about everything.
Half an hour later, a man shows up at his office with a mobile bhel puri stand. I shit you not. One call and moments later here this guy is with all the fillings, toppings, sauces, crispy bits, and accoutrement necessary. Everything was scrupulously clean of course.
The bhel puri was fantastic. A crunchy blend of puffed rice, sev, onion, tomato, cilantro, chilies, and tamarind chutney. It's hot and sweet, and totally addictive.
And since the guy had made a special trip and all, we decided we might as well try a few more of his offerings.
He quickly whipped up some amazing veg sandwiches with cucumber, potato, onion, tomato, and generous smears of various chutneys.
He followed that up with a plate of batata puri. Batata puri is similar to bhel puri, but it incorporates a lot of smashed potato and he laid it all out on individual little chips disks, kind of like indian nachos. I love him.
As we made our way home, I passed this great street barber. The scene inspired me to get a shave myself the next day. I'm not sure if it was a cultural difference or a translation issue, but during the grooming, the guy managed to get his fingers into my mouth on three separate occasions and then boldly pressed on after running out of shaving cream. It all ended with a very smooth face, but I'm sure there's a lesson in there somewhere.
Hi..great picture..I want to use for marketing the restaurant..can I please do that?
Posted by: Chetan Bhatia | Tuesday, 18 December 2012 at 10:21