Of Slumdogs, Millionaires and Masalas by Devanshi Mody

Whilst the film focuses on the city’s extreme poverty, the sort of people I met and places I saw provides another extreme perspective. After all, Mumbai’s high society have probably never seen a slum in their lives and perhaps thought the film was shot in some other country. They are after all, the people who spend their lives being conveyed from their ivory towers to some luxury hotel in their luxury cars and wouldn’t be seen dead without their Cristian Louboutin stilettos.

Reflecting Maximum City’s mentality, the Trident Nariman Point re-opening with a befitting multi-religious prayer ceremony was overshadowed by Taj’s exclusive, elitist high tea. The Taj rapidly claimed their hotel was 100% occupied (notwithstanding the attacks and credit crunch). Fairytale palaces are peopled with imaginary characters?

For larger-than-life characters, the Oberoi Group-owned Trident Nariman Point it is. The hotel staff immediately asked me to check in without further ado. So I did. When in Mumbai, do what the Mumbaikars do.

It would be incorrect to say that nothing had changed at the Trident. Because things had just got better. For those of you thinking why I can’t find another Mumbai hotel to write about, it’s because I haven’t the patience for imperfection and perfection is an obsession at Oberoi-owned properties. Staff at most luxury hotels are sweet but often stupid. The Oberoi’s hallmark is their dashing, dynamic, staff as entertaining as they’re efficient. And places are about people.

Well, the place counts too. And I who loves to complain couldn’t complain about my 30th floor executive room with floor-to-ceiling glass windows framing spectacular views of the Arabian Sea and the Mumbai skyline. This is a business hotel? It’s pure pleasure. The beds with duck-down duvets are so comfy I slept past the alarm and then lavished an hour over the breakfasts on the exclusive 28th floor. But who can resist the crispy dosas and tender idlis served with simmering sambhar? And who can get any work done on the rooftop business centre from where you have the Gateway of India, the Mumbai Harbour and Taj Palace cowering under your gaze? Spas I call a professional hazard. But my two hours at the hotel’s stylish new Shanti Spa weren’t unpleasant: French products, Balinese therapists, contemporised Oriental ambiance. Try the facials.

And then I consecrated entire afternoons to luncheons at India Jones, the Trident’s Pan Asian restaurant. I told Executive Chef Joy Bhattacharya that they’ve come back with a vengeance. He quipped, “The three weeks off must have done the chefs good...” (referring to the 3 weeks when the terror-attacked hotel was shut for restoration). The Thai green and red curries were possibly the best I’d had during my global gallivants of 2008. And restaurant managers, the inimitable Abde-Ali and chatty Abhimanyu Ranawat, add a delicious personal dimension. Places are about people. Indeed, the crisp, cool Front Office Manager Abhimanyu Lodha makes even the hotel reception worth lingering around at. One of the staff tells me I’m too young to be a journalist. Even that I look 20. I think, “Keep telling me things like that and of course you’re going to get rave reviews...”

A 24-year-old, confident Ranveer Sabhani reigns at the Trident’s other restaurant Frangipani, Mumbai’s hottest lunch spot, where distressed regulars gushed in after the re-opening to weep copiously. But rapidly realising that smudged masacara doesn’t become high society faces, they returned to emerging only with impeccably-made faces, wearing (very skimpy) designer outfits and 6-inch sandals. I took time off glutting my salads, potatoes roasties and apricot parfaits to make these little observations. BTW, never tell the chefs the food is 9/10 because they’ll keep getting you in until you concede full marks. That’s Oberoi perseverance! Indeed, the adorable chefs wouldn’t hear of me eating elsewhere. So I spent almost all my Mumbai sojourn sampling the extensive menus at India Jones and Frangipani. Ah, the food is so addictive as is the staff.

On the few occasions that I got away, I checked out new openings. Young entrepreneurs behind Mumbai’s latest launches didn’t wait for the re-openings of the attacked hotels for their inaugurations. For example, hip Bonobo. Dinner was packed and at midnight Mumbai’s glam young things emerged to boogie. The alfresco terrace-top restaurant-bar serves surprisingly eclectic fare. Food includes innovative Dijon mustard paneer tikka whilst India's first interactive bar is about concocting your own custom-made cocktails. But let the resident mixologist intoxicate you with his special martinis - Passion Fruit and Curry, Apple and date, Pomegranate and Mint. The desi kokum cocktail is the one to go for, though. But it isn’t the alcohol if you’re left bewildered about why the place is subtitled “BAR LOVE FOOD” or why the concept is inspired by the Bonobo monkey “capable of wild social behaviour and free love.” The owners’ contention that the “Bonobo is perhaps what humans strive to be” remains unfathomable to me.

No follies, however, by 25-year-old Avinash Bharwani who pioneered India’s only luxury health juice bar chain and now owns his 7th HAS branch at the Inox (this mall near the Oberoi is where terror victims hid just 3 weeks before Bharwani’s latest launch). He re-iterates over yummy dry fruit masala smoothies, “You can’t vanquish the spirit of Mumbai.” But you can demolish a dozen glasses of the most fantastic all-natural sumptuous smoothies. For sheer variety and quality, I haven’t had their equal elsewhere in the world. For Bharwani, it’s all smooth sailing (or should I say smoothie sailing).

The rejuvenated spirit of Mumbai lives on at just-launched C’est La Vie. I attended the owner’s supposedly Bollywood-star-studded 40th birthday. No stars showed, unless the make-up disguised them beyond recognition. But I was infinitely more amused by other guests including a couple who were asked by an Icelandic guest, “What do you do in life?” The boy replied unflinchingly, “My father’s got millions so I do nothing.” His wife/fiancé/girlfriend chirped, “And I just spend his money.” Oh dear... If these young upstarts were awful, I was next to meet the spectacularly hideous, self-proclaimed society queen Nisha Jamawar. She instantaneously declared herself “most upset” about the deplorable party we were at (she didn’t quite use the word “deplorable,” it being beyond her ken), and rapidly proceeded to invite me to her own party at Olive.

Mumbaikers on the party circuit warned me that the food at Olive was as horrific as my hostess but curiosity led me thither. But not before supper at Cellini where I helped myself generously to the best breads and pizzas in town. I must strenuously recommend their pizza with home-made Genoese pesto. You’ll forsake all else. Indeed, it’s quite easy to keep eating bread and pizzas but leave room for the warm chocolate cake desert. I thought also of calling from the Grand Hyatt’s other restaurant Soma for the unforgettable ghulab ki kheer which overflows with rose petals. But not wanting to turn up at the party at midnight looking like pumpkin, I decided to miss Mumbai’s most romantic desert desert and dashed for the party.

None of the promised glitterati studded the affair. But Nisha Jamawar presided ordering photographers to take limitless photos of herself and her guests. She thrust upon me the cosmetic surgeon Dr Ashok Gupta announcing vociferously that he did nose jobs, chin tucks and what not for Bollywood babes Bipasha Basoo, Kareena Kapoor etc etc. What happened to discretion? I fled the soiree wondering if Nisha Jamawar frequently turned up at parties looking like a glass of falooda.

I was next advised that if I wanted to see the serious Mumbai party scene, it was at Aurus. At Mumbai’s (currently) most exclusive address the party rages on in glamorous gait. The abode of Bollywood stars, models and glitzy young things, this lounge-restaurant with a beach-edge terrace was a masterminded by well-travelled youngsters including one whose enterprising talents charmed Ashok Hinduja’s daughter. Naturally, one of the couple’s wedding party functions was hosted at Auruas. Apres tour, it’s THE place to see and be seen around town. Thought ze beautiful people lived on love and salt water air? A super new chef who ensures elaborate, strikingly-presented gastronomic creations that have become the talk of the town, including amongst those professing to be on permanent diets.

I decided I’d be permanently off a diet if only I could dine daily at Mumbai’s finest Indian cuisine restaurant, the Intercontinental Marine Drive’s Kebab Corner where even PM Manmohan Singh takes time to swing by for their award-winning, mouth-melting kebabs, delicately-textured tandoori breads and sumptuous dal makhani. Intrepid tourists braved explosive chilli numbers and chilled over Pan Bellinis. The glass-encased façade of this stylish, elevated restaurant with unrivalled panoramic views of Mumbai’s Marine Drive frames streets as busy as the restaurant.

The Leela’s re-furbed Jamavar is a stunner but the unglamorous Great Wall is for serious food. Their new Singaporean chef has revolutionised Mumbai’s dim sum scene. He also does extraordinary vegetarian Peking duck and monk fish. As for Chef’s speciality silken noodles, my usually abstemious brother drained his bowl and hijacked my mother’s too.

But the Leela’s show-stopper is Stella headed by Chef Max who has worked at celebrated Michelin-starred restaurants in Rome and London. Stella’s plush interiors with tasteful artwork exude class whilst the exquisite Italian creations are perhaps Mumbai’s best kept secret. Not so secretive with connoisseurs, though. Those who know Italian cuisine will tell you it’s the only place in town doing gastronomic Italian cuisine. The inspired Michelin-star-material deserts prove the point. They even have Mumbai’s best wine list and host “classes” to educate society’s cream. “But we call them tastings,” someone smiles, “Because these hoity toities can’t be told they don’t already know...”

I ventured forth to check out the Japanese cuisine at Sanqui. My taxi pulled up and I demanded why the driver had brought me to an airport. “This is the Four Seasons Hotel, Madam.” Oops... Never mind, Sanqui itself was stunningly designed, although uncannily resembling the Grand Hyatt’s China House. I wondered why the restaurant was outside the hotel. Perhaps even if they demolish the architectural monstrosity, Super Potato could still salvage their design marvel? Let’s hope so for the sake of the fusion Japanese cuisine including cheese sushi and authentic French macaroons.

But the most gorgeous, gorgeous pastries are at Indigo Deli. Everything tempts dangerously. Choices, choices. You have no choice but to try them all. Slumdog Millionaire might have you think Mumbaikers eat humble pie. But not at the Indigo Deli!

The much-hyped Trident Bandra-Kurla is launching. The city remembers Rahul Korgaokar whose infectious enthusiasm made the Oberoi’s Vetro Mumbai’s most fashionable spot. Never mind if the authentic Italian fare didn’t flatter desi palates. Desis braved blandness to be at the restaurant Rahul launched, were happily weaned off whisky and took to wine (often on the rocks...) as Rahul conducted wine tastings with great gusto in the restaurant’s sophisticated enoteca. Rahul will open the new fine dining Italian restaurant at the upcoming Trident. And those who’ve wine tasted with Rahul will tell you it’s party time in Mumbai!