Chef Lakhan Jethani gestures as he speaks during an interview, at his residence in Bandra west, Mumbai
(Express photo by Sankhadeep Banerjee)The aroma of ghee hits the air long before chef Lakhan Jethani places the first koki, a Sindhi delicacy, on the tawa. The quiet expanse of the Arabian Sea outside mirrors the stillness of his modern, minimal home in Bandra, Mumbai. The soft greys and browns, the plush sofa, a cozy dining table, with a neat stack of cookbooks in one corner reflects the calm confidence of a life spent chasing technique and discipline. The koki sizzles, releasing a fragrance that feels like memory itself. “I can eat this for any meal, with a dollop of ghee on top,” he says, flipping the half-done roti.
Widely regarded among Mumbai’s most meticulous chefs of Japanese cuisine, Jethani’s story begins long before Mizu Izakaya. Growing up in Bandra, he was a kid obsessed with anime and food. His family of four (he has an older brother) ate out often, and now-defunct Indian Chinese place, Golden Door, shaped his earliest cravings. At home, he hovered near the kitchen until his mother chased him out but the damage was done — the kitchen had chosen him. He began with putting together sandwiches, then levelling up to chilli paneer, kung pao chicken and mushrooms in buttery soy-garlic sauce.
At 21, with a degree from Glion Institute in Switzerland and a few internships (Zenzi Mumbai and Marina and Ocean Club Kitchen in South Carolina), he opened IBar in Bandra Reclamation. Around the same time, a trip to Japan cracked something open. “It shocked me,” he says. “There was warmth, a philosophy… something clicked.” The bar was locked in, so he shelved the idea temporarily. “But the seed got sowed.”
Years later, that seed would blossom into Mizu Izakaya, one of the pioneers of Mumbai’s Japanese food revolution. But Jethani, a self-confessed nerd, wanted mastery, not approximation. So he trained at the International Centre for Culinary Arts, Dubai, studying French and Italian techniques, pastry and bakery. Then came Tokyo Cook, a six-month immersion in Japanese culinary principles, followed by an internship at Sougo under chef Daisuke Nomura, the third-generation head chef of the two-Michelin-star restaurant Daigo.”
He also visited Japan almost every year. One such trip led to an internship at Matsunozushi, a 12-seater sushi counter in Shinagawa where centuries of craft unfold behind the counter. “I understood the philosophy. But I needed to learn the techniques.”
Sindhi Koki (Express photo by Sankhadeep Banerjee)
Mizu Izakaya was born when a friend deterred him from taking another study trip to Japan with a proposition to open a restaurant together. They launched in late 2019 to a promising start only to shut months later during the pandemic. “We were in a mall, so we weren’t even allowed a cloud kitchen,” he says. He wasn’t working. That was a first. Financial losses were severe; the emotional ones, too. But with family support, they restarted in Khar — first as a delivery kitchen, then with lunch service, and finally dinner. Soon, Mizu had 3-4 weeks of waiting. “It’s down to 3–4 days now,” laughs Jethani, who just renewed their five-year lease. Today, Jethani splits his time between Mumbai and their new Goa outpost. Most days, he works from 11.30 am to 11.30 pm, moving between counters and conversations.
Back in his kitchen, the koki is ready — golden at the edges, fragrant with onions and garnished with coriander. He hands us one straight off the tawa, apologising that it’s “not nearly as good as my mother’s”. We eat it alongside his mother’s tangy orange Sindhi kadhi, aloo tuk (spicy fried potatoes) and rice, before ending with a pair of Japanese desserts: a traditional mochi filled with caramelised banana and Shiroi Koibito, a popular Hokkaido sweet with a layer of chocolate sandwiched between two buttery French-style cookies.
For someone always seeking the next new technique, apprenticeship and place to learn, the comfort of familiar taste, rooted in memory and legacy, remains constant.
KOKI
Ingredients
Whole wheat flour: 200 gm; Water: 125 ml; Ghee: 1 tbsp (plus more for cooking); Onion: 1/2 medium, finely chopped; Fresh coriander: 10 gm, chopped; Cumin seeds: 1/2 tsp; Cumin powder: 1/2 tsp; Coriander powder: 1/2 tsp; Red chilli powder: a pinch; Salt: to taste
Method
In a mixing bowl, combine the whole wheat flour and water. Start kneading to form a soft dough. Add ghee, chopped onion, fresh coriander, cumin seeds, cumin powder, coriander powder, red chilli powder and salt. Knead again until everything is well combined. If the dough feels dry, sprinkle in a little more water. Cover the dough and refrigerate for 30 minutes. Now divide the dough into small balls. Dust each ball with flour and roll it out to about three inches. Cook on a hot tawa until 50 per cent done on both sides. Remove from the tawa and let them cool slightly.
Once cool, roll each partially cooked disc further to a regular roti size (6–7 inches). Return the rotis to the hot tawa and cook on both sides, brushing with ghee, until golden brown.


