Mediterranean flavours with elegance

Review: Nico Bombay

We were strolling rather innocently in Fort, when we stumbled upon Nico Bombay. Our legs drew us towards it, very conscious of the fact that we already had a reservation at this other place. We’d passed by Nico Bombay several times before, always noticing the white wooden tables on wooden floor, but, at night, the light emanating through the glass chandeliers coated the wooden furniture with an irresistible elegance. We couldn’t help ourselves from checking the menu hung outside, right in the middle of two windowpanes that betrayed the perfectly alluring décor. We felt like we were window-shopping for food.

“The menu looks delicious, but I’m afraid it’d put a dent in my wallet”. We decided then that dinners shouldn’t be heavy. We cancelled our reservation.

The 12-step slow walk to our table, 6 of which were alongside the cement-tiled bar, was filled with admiration for the interiors. The lights were adequately dim—they permitted us to easily read the menu. The light from the tea-candle shimmered off the textured glass it was placed inside; this and with several tables-for-two, Nico Bombay would serve well for a dinner date.

“Could you get us three glasses of filtered water?”

“Sorry sir, we only serve Mulshi spring water.”

We looked at each other. Sigh. “All right. Room temperature, please.”

Every item on the handmade paper-based menu impressed us. The dishes seemed to be an impressive combination of meat, sauces and greens.

“I’ll choose a pizza.”

“Is there pizza in this menu?”

“‘Neapolitan Flat Bread’. That’s pizza.”

While I was confused between chipotle-spiced mackerel and smoked sardines for “mezze”, a slate-black slab appeared on the table with three pieces of choux pastry with cream filling. Our moans must have been more audible than we realized because in ten minutes, another such slab appeared and with a sly smile plastered on the waiter’s countenance.

We got our orders within reasonable time. Veal tenderloin with tuna tonato sprinkled with arugula was a treat. Each bite was as delicious as the previous one; we finished the dish within minutes.

Which “flatbread”, Enzo or Beirut? The former, in particular, featured pumpkin flowers. The waiter came to my rescue, “Sir, Enzo isn’t available because we do not have the burrata cheese.” Soon after, Beirut and Gorus were placed on the table. Beirut didn’t lack tomato sauce, it just didn’t need it. Pine nuts and dill-cream cheese complementing the goat meat pieces sprinkled all over the pizza treated our taste buds to some unusual, but beautiful, combination of Mediterranean flavours. Gorus, drizzled with bitter honey, also stimulated taste buds in a combination never before experienced. None of us left the crusts at the end; even the dough was that delicious.

Because we did not want a “heavy dinner”, we had to skip desserts. However, the coffee machine on the bar was tempting, even though it was 10:30 pm.

I shouldn’t have. It had chicory.

Nevertheless, with the overall experience leaning towards extremely positive, we walked out of the food heaven, back into the reality of the night.

Meal for two: Approximately Rs. 2000

LOCATION:

105 Apollo Street

Bombay Samachar Marg
Kala Ghoda

PHONE: 022 2262 4466

The New Arrival

Positive. Positive. Positive. All three sticks were positive. Her hand immediately reached for her phone to text him, but she stopped it. No, this will have to wait. She washed her piss-covered hands and headed back to her table.

Last month, her mind had been swimming in happiness and alcohol. Her John, her dearest adorable John, was painting a perfect picture of the future. “Let’s get a house in the suburbs. We will have a studio where I can concentrate on drawing. We’ll have a garden for our kids to play in. I’ll be a perfect house husband. I can drop the kids to the school, draw while they’re away, pick them up in the afternoon. Maybe all that will inspire me to finally crap out a great graphic novel….” His face returned to the usual taciturnity, but his eyes were still lost far beyond the horizon. “Come on, John, I’ve just got a raise, not a promotion; not yet. Besides,” she climbed on him intoxicated by his lips, “if we need to have babies, what are we doing here on the beach?”

She called for another Americano. She decided she did not want monosyllabic responses again. No, not today. Both in graphic novels and in real life, John communicated more with facial expressions. Today, she especially wanted to communicate with him.

The tiny bell attached to the door chimed, and her eyes met John’s: they betrayed irritation, but only the mild kind of irritation one has on minor interruption of routine. She retaliated with a smile. He kissed her and sat across her.

 “So, what’s the urgent news?”

 She wondered if her decision would significantly alter that expression.