They say Mumbai is a melting pot of cultures, and the same holds true for its culinary landscape. Shaped by migration, power, commerce, class and availability of ingredients, the city’s food tells the story of its making. The quintessential laadi pav, now inseparable from Mumbai, arrived with Goan migrants in the 18th and 19th centuries, who had themselves learnt the art of baking from the Portuguese.
Meanwhile, communities considered among the city’s earliest inhabitants — the Pathare Prabhus, Kolis and East Indians — have little presence in today’s dining-out landscape. Capturing these and many more such nuggets is Proniti Datta’s “In the Beginning There Was Bombay Duck – A Food History of Mumbai” (Speaking Tiger). In this interview, Datta speaks to Heena Khandelwal on the various communities that have shaped Mumbai’s culinary identity, the role pop-ups and supper clubs play in spotlighting cuisines that remain underrepresented, and what “native” really means in context of Mumbai’s food. Excerpts:
Q: What were some revelations you made while researching?
A: The Pathare Prabhu cuisine was a revelation. It’s a very small and early community, and people outside it don’t know much about their food. They have “Mumbra”, a banana cake made with Rajeli bananas. They’re obsessed with seafood, so they put either shrimp or bombil in this banana cake. One of my first title choices was “Shrimp in My Banana Cake”, referencing this. They put shrimp in poha, upma, everything.
They also have a peculiar cooking method. Most Indian cooking is a step-by-step process — heat oil, then add tadka, and so on. But Pathare Prabhus mix everything raw first — onion, garlic, chilli, masalas — vigorously with their hands. Then they add water and fish and then they put it on the gas. That was a revelation.
Ghormeh sabzi at Cafe Mommy Joon. (Photo courtesy – Cafe Mommy Joon)
Another example is the Konkani Muslims’ “Sarawle”. There’s a sweet and savoury version. The sweet version is pasta cooked in sweetened milk with a cracked egg on top that steams in the heat. It’s a strange combination of sweet pasta with a runny egg. These things were revelatory.
Q: How many communities shaped Mumbai’s culinary identity?
Everyone who comes to Bombay shapes its culinary identity. In this book, I dealt mainly with early communities — because you have to stop somewhere. There are Kolis, Pathare Prabhus, Bene Israelis, Konkani Muslims, Maharashtrians, East Indians, Goans, Iranians (Zoroastrian Iranis and Muslim Iranis), the Chinese community, the Gujaratis, and the Sindhis. The final chapter focuses on Bhindi Bazaar and mainly the Bohra Muslims and UP Muslims.
But even today, new subcultures — like the Northeast community in Kalina — are adding to the city’s food landscape. You can get Naga or Manipuri meals there and buy ingredients like “akhuni” (a traditional fermented soybean product from Nagaland) from local grocery shops there.
Q: Through the lens of food, what do you see as the idea of a Mumbai “native”?
A: The idea of “native” is politically charged in Maharashtra. Food has often been used politically, like vada pav being leveraged as a native food by the Sainiks. Is there something called native food? Yes, vada pav is a Bombay item. But my argument is that in Bombay, one must have a loose and encompassing idea of native. Vada pav wouldn’t exist without the Portuguese, the Goans, who brought pav to Mumbai. As long as the idea is loose and inclusive, fine. But rigid and dogmatic, that’s where problems arise.
Q: How did pav become so strongly associated with Iranis?
The Portuguese introduced leavened bread. They fermented tadi to make yeast. Goans learned baking from them and brought pav to Bombay during migrations in the 18th and 19th centuries. Goans brought pav, but later moved into other professions. In the 19th century, Iranis began arriving in large numbers. Knowledge transfer took place between Goans and Iranis. The Iranis learned baking and continued the tradition.
Mumbra is a banana cake made with rajeli bananas by the Pathare Prabhu community. True to their deep love for seafood, it often includes shrimp or bombil folded into the batter. (Photo courtesy – Soumitra Velkar)
For example, Rex Bakery was taken over by a Zoroastrian Irani family in 1957 from a Catholic family named Lobo. They learned from the Lobos. No one knows when the Lobos started the bakery — that’s a mystery.
Q: Which cuisines do you think are under-represented today?
The cuisines of the earliest settlers are under-represented. You don’t get Pathare Prabhu food, Konkani Muslim food, Khoja or Memon food easily outside homes. GSB non-vegetarian food is highly under-represented. GSBs moved to different professions through education and left the food business. Many affluent early communities never entered the restaurant business.
Q: What role do pop-ups and supper clubs play today to highlight food from communities like Pathare Prabhu and GSB?
Hugely important. Since the 2000s, with the internet and social media, there’s been a hyper-awareness about food. People are curious and experimental. Pop-ups have unearthed lesser-known cuisines. You can buy a seat at someone’s table and eat Assamese food, or a meal from the Malwa plateau. This curiosity has even filtered down to restaurants like Bombay Canteen, which has introduced the city to many regional ingredients like dragon stalk yam called “shevla”.
Five iconic eateries and what to eat there?
1. Ling’s Pavilion (Colaba)
Hakka noodles and Xiaolongbao (soupy pork dumplings).
2. Sarvi’s (Byculla)
Their kebabs.
3. Sharda Bhavan (Matunga)
Plain dosa.
4. Opera House Sev Khamani
Khamani (deconstructed dhokla) with sev. Rare in Bombay outside Gujarati hubs.
5. Cafe Mommy Joon
Joojeh Torosh (chicken kebab with pomegranate molasses) and Ghormeh Sabzi (greens and mutton stew).
Pronoti Datta, author of In the Beginning There Was Bombay Duck - A Food History of Mumbai (L) the book cover. (Source: Special Arrangement) 
Ghormeh sabzi at Cafe Mommy Joon. (Photo courtesy – Cafe Mommy Joon)
Mumbra is a banana cake made with rajeli bananas by the Pathare Prabhu community. True to their deep love for seafood, it often includes shrimp or bombil folded into the batter. (Photo courtesy – Soumitra Velkar)
Share
