Earlier the joke was that Saby’s copied all his dad’s recipes for Lavaash, and now the joke is that Saby’s dyslexic so he can’t even spell his restaurant’s name right,” says Chef Sabyasachi Gorai (known universally as Chef Saby), when discussing why he named his new venture Poppin’s Hotal. As it turns out, the Poppins is a reflection of a simpler time in India, when we looked inwards for all our sustenance, including homegrown candy like Poppins. It also helps that the many vibrant colours and flavours of the sweet still came closely packed together, despite their obvious differences, much like the variegated cuisines of India. The Hotal is an ode to the bold, and usually misspelled, signs that used to adorn the frontages of roadside eateries and small-town restaurants.
The food menu, which changes every three or four months, sticks mostly to the lower half of India in this particular iteration, coasting along the Konkan and the Malabar, as well as around the major ports in the Bay of Bengal and Rann of Kutch, while not forgetting to make inroads into the mainland. So expect dishes from cities and regions as varied as Mangalore and Mumbai to Kolkata and Indore. And given the remarkably reasonable alcohol prices, the dipsomaniac has as much cause to celebrate as the dining enthusiast.
We begin with the Mathri Bharta, Chilly Cheese Spring Rolls, Empire Fried Chicken, Gwalior “Slims”, and Tawa Fish Naked Masala. Now before you start judging, you should also know that almost every item on the menu is served as half/full, so you can go whole hog, without devastating your waistline or your wallet.
The Mathri Bharta is via a Marwari connection of the chef, based on a friend’s mum recipe and comprising of a smoky baigan bharta, redolent with spices, and just begging to be scooped up by the accompanying fresh, crisp mathri. The Spring Rolls, a la Kolkata, are far more subtle than we anticipate, and instead of being oily, deep fried cigar rolls stuffed with cheese, are far lighter, almost dosa like in texture, while still as gooey and delicious in the middle as only Amul cheese can be.
The Empire Fried Chicken, named after a proprietary dish from Bengaluru, comes with more of a crunch, with small pieces of lightly marinated chicken (some with bone still remaining) coated in a dusting of batter, and would have us pop in to Poppins every day, if we were lucky enough to live nearby.
For our mains we get the Gowda Mutton Masala, Goan Pork Chilly Bafat, and the Andhra Green Chilli Chicken, all of which we intend to moderate with flaky Malabar Parrota. The pork, based on a Mangalorean Catholic masala mix which found its way to Goa, is peppery and palate pleasing to the extreme, while the Andhra chicken, despite its name, is spicy rather than hot, and comes in a vivid yet dark shade of green. Without getting political, we can also say that we enjoyed the Gowda mutton, inspired by Asia’s largest goat market in Karnataka, just as much as the chicken and pork.
Indeed, why can’t we all get along as well as the dishes here?