Consultant chef Irfan Pabaney and education entrepreneur Rajiv Shah enjoy a relaxed yet vital vibe
Rajiv Shah and Irfan Pabaney catch up at SodaBottleOpenerWala, BKC. Pic/Aishwarya Deodhar
Irfan Pabaney, 56, Country head, SodaBottleOpenerWala
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Rajiv Shah, 56, CEO, NMIMS Global Access School
One born in Bogota, the other in Aden, they found lasting friendship in Bombay of the early 1980s.
Chef Irfan Pabaney has been associated with some of the city’s most iconic restaurants, over the last 30 years, like Under the Over, Seijo and the Soul Dish, Indigo, Hakkasan and Yauatcha. Branching out on his own in 2012, with his business partner, to open The Sassy Spoon, he is currently Country Head of SodaBottleOpenerWala, running eight restaurants pan India. His role recently expanded to include the kitchens of Monkey Bar, Fatty Bao and Olive Bistro.
Rajiv Shah is the force behind the NMIMS (Narsee Monjee Institute of Management Studies) Global School for continuing online learning and executive education, growing it to make it possibly the largest such operation for higher education in the country. Before this, he undertook a series of entrepreneurial experiences, involving the dissemination of educational content in multimedia publishing, distance education and online assessment.
The skills of international gourmet cuisine fuse with EdTech industry expertise, serving up a flavourful tadka of nostalgia and news.
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Irfan Pabaney: We were Juhu boys, joining Maneckji Cooper School in Class IX. Rajiv came from Kodaikanal International School. I did after a year in Yadavindra Public School of Patiala, on my family moving back to India in 1980 after crisscrossing the world.
Rajiv Shah: My early childhood was in small-town Veraval in Gujarat, where my father had groundnut oil and cotton ginning and pressing factories. Not wanting me to continue schooling in Veraval, I was sent to Kodaikanal, which had one of the country’s first IB schools. At Cooper’s, I noticed the first thing anyone introduced to Irfan would. His accent: a weirdly incomprehensible mix of Indian, Mexican and Filipino. What you hear today is a hundred times better.
The friends on a food trail trip in Hong Kong, 2015
IP: We had common interests like sports—I played football and was school champ for track and field—and food, which we both totally love. But a shared sense of humour really saw us hit it off. We never stopped laughing at
ridiculous jokes.
RS: My wife Kavita was his close friend before we grew to be good friends. A pucca Gujarati Jain vegetarian, my initiation to non-vegetarian food was in Irfan’s unique Juhu shack house. I learnt to relish biryani and mutton cooked by his mother, Aunt Raihana, and aunt whom we called Tia Z.
IP: Now he’s happily masahari. That Kavita is Punjabi, helps. Our favourite spot was the Quality Dry Fruits shop where we got frankies and a Mangola for me, Thums Up for him. I corrupted him, for sure.
RS: Then, I was this gullible Guju boy, touching neither meat nor booze. Once, at Kavita’s place when her parents were away, our gang of friends chipped in to buy a quarter of Old Monk. They poured me a glass claiming it was Thums Up. Quite a few friends must’ve contributed to that bottle because we were all forever broke with never enough money. Including me, despite my family’s
business background.
IP: Thanks to my dad being with the United Nations, we moved from Bogota, South America, to Guatemala in Central America and subsequently, to the Philippines in 1970 for nine years. That explains my love for Southeast Asia and its cuisine. Our mother ensured her children studied at the amazing Jose Abad Santos Memorial School, not an international school. She thought it important that we understood the culture of a country we stayed in. After the Philippines we spent a little time in Nigeria, before finally getting back to India.
Mom hated cooking, but I followed her faithfully into the kitchen. It began with me making fresh rice to go with curries she cooked and kept before travelling. With a PhD in applied social sciences from Berkeley, my dad worked with organisations like WHO and ILO.
RS: His father organised debates on serious issues like nuclear armament. We regularly gathered around for great conversations.
IP: The intelligent part of Rajiv never rubbed off on me, though I studied at his home a lot. I was fully happy-go-lucky. As teenagers, we went to Open House, or hung out for movies at Chandan for English movies and Milan Talkies for
Hindi films.
RS: At Milan, we checked out the tapori crowd during the late night shows, complete with catcalls and crazy whistling. I distinctly remember Kamal Haasan and Reena Roy in Sanam Teri Kasam.
IP: After Mithibai College, while Rajiv did his Master’s in electrical engineering from Syracuse University and returned to start his multimedia publishing venture, I found hoteliering fascinating. A cousin of my dad had a company dealing in food flavourings. On joining it, I smelt nicely (or so I thought) of vanilla essence, never mind the friends revolting with complaints about the overpowering odour. I met my wife Yashodha while doing the Sophia Polytechnic hotel management course.
RS: Faced with challenges, Irfan seeks my advice. I am the more assertive of us. I’m curious how he manages at work.
IP: I’m relatively unaware about the intricacies of his more specialised field: education. He’s the sensible one, my go-to guy. We keep updated on different matters, especially family, fun stuff like catching up with what our kids are doing.
RS: Irfan is non-confrontational. He navigates situations without bolting from them, tries resolving minus argument. These days, friendships fall over divided opinion, especially political.
IP: Not as live-and-let-live as it used to be, Bombay is still cosmopolitan, still forgiving. A less judgemental or intrusive city than others. With
Rajiv in Lokhandwala and me Colaba, the south to north trek in weekday traffic is insane. We prefer Sunday lunch at my home.
RS: Irfan gets along with everyone. Walk anywhere with him and you’ll meet someone he knows. The comfort extended to each other’s personality is strong enough to accept each other as we are. There is this immense ease we share as friends, which is rare with people.
Author-publisher Meher Marfatia writes monthly on city friendships. You can reach her at meher.marfatia@mid-day.com/www.meher marfatia.com