Fast food, still standing

Koolar and Co is a popular Irani cafe in Matunga East

Growing up in the Nineties, Nirula's to us Bombaywallahs was a far- fetched foodie wonderland that only a few had the pleasure of experiencing; they were the lucky lot who would travel to Delhi for their summer or Diwali holidays, and later return to regale us with stories of these gastronomical pilgrimages during school lunch breaks. It didn't help that we had to bite into an Amul-cheese sandwich in our lunchbox while the lip-smacking fantasy was narrated. Giant burgers, salad bars, ice-cream sodas, thick milkshakes and French fries…the only good thing these conversations did for our imagination was that it made us believe, at least, partly, that India could also have its version of Pop Tate's, from Archies' Comics fame. Years later, we made that trip to the iconic Connaught Place outlet, and realised that it's not just about the fare - because by then, Delhi and all of India, was experiencing the MNC boom - Nirula's was a slice of nostalgia that was part of most Dilliwallahs' DNA.

When Deepak Nirula passed away last week, social media was flooded with tributes and memories from the young and the not-so-young - they all had a Nirula's story to share - be it a date, a college reunion, or a family bash. It made us jog our memory to recall if Bombay had an equivalent - an indigenously created fast food chain that evoked similar emotion. We drew a blank. But that's when the ‘rewind' button moved to the ‘play' mode [excuse the analogue talk; we got carried away with the subject here].

Back in high school and in college, it was the Udipi that came closest to our idea of fast food. They were everywhere, and their sizzling kitchens served delicious food in a jiffy, most of it was fried, and it was value-for-money. What more could one ask for! Growing up in a Gujarati-Maharashtrian neighbourhood, we didn't have to look too far if the Udipi menu got a tad predictable. There were plenty of streetside favourites to woo us, from vada pao to pav bhaji and the sweet-savoury surprise, dabeli. Then came Monginis, with their colourful cakes, pastries as well as burgers and patties. You were hailed as royalty in school if their goodies were part of the house birthday party bash. It's a different thing altogether that we didn't know any better in our smug, middle-class, suburban ecosystems.

Trips to SoBo and Bandra opened up our palates to homegrown ventures including the veteran, Mafco Farms. Who can forget their chicken and mutton sandwiches, slathered in butter with generous portions of tender slices of chicken and mutton? Or Energee speed-drinking contests among friends to decide who could finish a bottle of the elaichi or chocolate-flavoured drink, in record time? It was an instant ticket to a happy place after hours of loafing around Colaba or Gateway of India, or delightful Christmas and Easter shopping adventures to Crawford Market, Hill Road or Linking Road. Those stand-and-eat balancing act ‘fast' meals were our first truly happy meals, minus the frills, and well before the Happy Meal arrived on our shores from Uncle Sam's land.

While in college we were also introduced to the other fast food option that this city continues to be blessed with - the Irani café. Their no-fuss menus, business-like waiting staff [similar in so many ways to the Udipis, no?] and buzzing, mirror-walled interiors were a godsend to non-vegetarians like us. I recall being riveted by their counters that would be lined with king-sized cookie jars filled with all kinds of biscuits and savouries like khari. A selection of eedu-inspired dishes, riotous kheema pao and that oh-so-kadak minty chai to wake up the most sleep-deprived among us - it was the ideal hangout for us perennially-hurried collegians.

By the time Y2K [remember that term?] happened, Bombay aka Mumbai had changed gears. The Golden Arch became the new cool place that you simply HAD to be spotted at; many also-rans followed suit and the fast food ‘revolution' as they called it then, had well and truly arrived. So, coming to think of it, we never really had that one true iconic chain that brought us our own desi-fied version of fast food. True to our cosmopolitan soul, we were satiated, thanks to the humble Udipis and the Irani cafés, and other indigenous offerings; many from that era have unfortunately been phased out, now confined to newspaper clippings or ‘Insta stories' posted by today's instant historians. Thankfully, some of the robust, hardy establishments continue to counter the many curveballs that this city keeps throwing at them.

So while we don't have our own version of a Nirula's moment, it's important to treasure and support these custodians of our fast food memories. Each time we polish off a plate of salli par eedu or sip on a steaming cup of filter kaapi from a stainless steel tumbler to wash down a neer dosa, we relive those pages of nostalgia, and relish the aftertaste. Those will continue to be our permanent takeaway orders, minus the GST.

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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