Street, Eat, Repeat. No mincing matters

All of a sudden, I find myself bumping into an old friend in the most unexpected places.

For kheema pav — that magnificent breakfast dish that was once plonked on the table in cracked, white ceramic saucers alongside sloshing, chipped cups of tea — has suddenly become the zing thing. Overnight, it’s whooshed its way from the Grade III greasy spoon to the trendy resto-pub.

Step into one of the new breed of restaurants that package themselves as fusion or contemporary Indian and you’re bound to encounter a version of kheema pav on the menu (and vintage Femina ads, matchbox installations and bottle-cap-art on the walls).

Along with this iconic status, kheema pav and kheema ghotala have acquired a new price tag and style. Gone is the Kolhapuri-chappal-and- jhola aura. Gone are the mismatched cutlery and greasy crockery. Gone are the brusque, table-swabbing waiters and the unblushing layer of oil at the top of every serving. Instead you have ironic crockery, air conditioning and an amusing twist in the tale — which throws up a ‘Hardy Bhai’s ishtyle breakfast’ or a ‘kheema pao juicy Lucy’.

The good news is that the kheema pav has not lost its common touch merely because it’s started rubbing shoulders with fancy-schmancy cocktails and sparkling cutlery. It’s still available at all the old haunts, as hearty and satisfying as ever. At Grant Hotel — opposite the JJ School of Art — it comes with sliced onion and an unbeatable reputation. At Olympia Coffee House in Colaba, the kheema fry involves a generous topping of chopped coriander and mint leaves. While at Kyani’s, you can choose to crown your mince with a fried egg, crunchy sali or even cheese. (Of course, wherever you go, you can order a kheema ghotala , which is kheema scrambled with egg. This variation is usually drier, more substantial and utterly addictive.)

Over the years, I’ve cleaned up innumerable oily saucers and bowls with warm pillows of pav . As a student at St Xavier’s College, it was considered an acceptable educational practice to skip macro economics in favour of a giggle-fest at Kyani’s. When we lived in Dadar, we often indulged in long Sunday brunches at an eccentric Irani restaurant tucked behind Tilak Bridge. This eatery was manned by an army of clone-cousins who doled out the most spectacular, fiery kheema amidst bellowed conversation and family squabbles. As journalists, we often found ourselves in far-flung corners of the city, forced to wait for a reluctant interviewee — and the local Irani restaurant, a plate of kheema pav , and rambling chats about Dr Ambedkar, Kutchi block prints or Steely Dan was the perfect antidote to boredom.

Funnily, discussions about kheema pav have always been fraught, opinionated affairs. There are the staunch supporters of Irani restaurants, who will never order the dish anywhere else. Then there are those who prefer the Muslim-Chiliya flavours, which I think involves more garam masala. There are those who plump for Stadium Restaurant at Churchgate, and others who vote for Paramount at Worli.

Then, of course, there are the naysayers who shrug at the mention of kheema pav . “What’s the big deal?” they ask. “After all, it’s just good old mince, cooked with onions, tomato and chilli. Kheema ’s available all over the country. All you Bombayites have done is serve it with a couple of pavs .”

What these sacrilegious cynics don’t realise, however, is that this is a match made in paprika-and-peppermint heaven. Food historians say that pav was invented by the Portuguese in Goa, in a creative attempt to reproduce the breads of their homeland, using toddy instead of yeast. It soon made the trip from Goa to Mumbai where local street vendors found it a convenient vehicle for everything, from omelettes to vadas, bhaji to misal , samosas to kheema .

Of all these mix-and-match experiments, however, I feel kheema pav works best. At the risk of being controversial, I think that vada pav can get too starchy and stodgy. Omelette pav is always just a bit bland. The misal pav combo turns a bit soggy. While pav bhaji is a glorious creation, but only succeeds if the pav is fried in lashings of butter.

Kheema pav , on the other hand, is a dish full of contrasts. The graininess and bite of the kheema offset the softness of the pav . The spices of the meat dish work well with the blandness of the bread. While the oil ensures that the pav becomes deliciously moist but never soggy.

If you don’t believe me, toodle across to Olympia or Kyani’s. Order the kheema pav and a cup of sweet, milky tea. Don’t fuss about the oil and chaos. Instead focus on your food and breakfast like a king. All for less than ₹100.

Kheema ghotala

Most non-vegetarians make kheema , so I thought a recipe for kheema ghotala would be more useful and fun. It’s the perfect way to recycle leftovers — and possibly even more yummy than the original.

Ingredients

Leftover cooked kheema, about 100g

Two eggs

Salt

Lime

Coriander leaves

Cheese (optional)

Method

1 Beat the eggs in a bowl with salt. Then scramble it with the kheema till it ends up looking like a bhurji.

2 Squeeze lime, top with coriander leaves and cheese if you like.

3 Serve with pav or toast.

Shabnam Minwallais a journalist and the author of The Strange Haunting of Model High School and The Shy Supergirl

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