I Ran Here to Eat

India is a complex place, full of contrasts.  I normally spend most of my time in Mumbai near the Banda Kura Complex by the airport.  But Friday we had a meeting in South Mumbai and since traffic in Mumbai (and India in general) ranges from Bad to Horrible, we headed out early to make sure we got to the client on time and figured we would have lunch at a nearby restaurant one of the team knew.

South Mumbai (or South Bombay as it is still referred to) was the center of old colonial Bombay.  It is filled with buildings that the British built (or had built) and has a charm to it not present in the more modern India.  Our car dropped us off in a charming, vintage, colonial section of town at Britannia and Company.  The somewhat shabby exterior belied what we would experience on the inside (although still shabby).

My co-worker told me this was a very special restaurant.  It was opened in 1923 by Iranian immigrants and serves Parsi food.  It is only open at lunchtime (11:30 to 4:00) and its owner is a 95 year old who still shows up every day.  Checking in we were directed to a large table “over in front of my father”.  Sure enough there was a well-dressed older man watching the goings on from a table.

Showing his photo with
William and Kate

As my coworker tried to get the attention of a waiter, he was waived off a couple of times.  Finally, one of the waiters indicated that the owner would be taking our order.  Then Mr. Boman Kohinoor came over to make a little small talk and take our order.

He asked where we were from and we never got passed Singapore.  “Too many rules there” was almost the first thing out of his mouth, then went on to praise the leadership of Lee Kuan Yew and what he accomplished.  As we took our order, he scrawled the initials of the dish on his note pad.   “2 M.C.” meant two orders of mutton cutlet.  “4 M.B.P.” meant four orders of Mutton Berry Pulav. We also each ordered a bottle of a raspberry soda that is popular with the Iranian community and is getting harder and harder to find.

  

The food was wonderful.  The mutton would just dissolve in your mouth and the layers of flavors were evidence to the complexity of the dishes.  The berries are evidently imported from Iran because nothing else compares.

Raspberry juice with
 "No Fruit"

And as good as the food was, it paled to Mr. Kohinoor.  As we chatted with other tables he brought out one of his prized possessions—a picture of him with Prince William and Kate.  Towards the end of our meal I looked over at his table.  First he was leaning back, eyes closed.  A little later his head was down and the table, resting on his crossed arms.

I feel very lucky to have experienced Britannia and Company as it is today, for it will be changing—no one lives forever.  But I think and hope that the unique hospitality continues as the 5^th generation of the family is working at the restaurant now.  Hopefully they have learned a lot at the knee of Mr. Kohinoor.