Hindustan Times ST (Mumbai) - Brunch

A woman walks into a bar …

A pub-hopping adventure across cities to lift the spirits

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There are countless variations around the ‘Man walks into a bar’ joke opening, but it’s rare to find one that begins with ‘A woman walks into a bar’ – how strange. For teenagers like me in ’90s Mumbai, for instance, the pub was a place not just to bang one’s head to Metallica, but also to pick up essential life skills, like pretending to hear a dull date over blaring music, or using the ladies restroom in a zero-contact manner that would come in handy in the Covid era.

Pub crawl

The Ghetto near Haji Ali has long been a favourite shrine for grunge-lovers, with its busy graffiti, retro rock and pool table. And, of course, the UV lights that make it necessary to pay attention to one’s wardrobe choices, especially innerwear. Ghetto takes you back to college whenever you visit, like the original Pecos in Bengaluru once did, with its enduring love for audio cassettes. Delhi’s 4S in Def Col, with its passionate journalist­s and chatty lawyers, is still a dive bar I’d seek out, despite the seductions of the capital’s fancy new bistros. Kolkata’s live music hub Someplace Else, and grimy yet charming Oly Pub, are other evergreen favourites.

WE NOW JUDGE HANGOUTS ON THEIR ABILITY TO DISTANCE US FROM EACH OTHER EFFECTIVEL­Y; AN OUTDOOR SPACE IS MORE ATTRACTIVE THAN HAPPY HOURS

But there’s no place like Mumbai’s Toto’s Garage, any self-respecting beer and rock lover will say. It has a Volkswagen Beetle suspended on the top of the bar, and the abbreviate­d shell of a Maruti Omni serving as the DJ console, where the bedraggled Colin plays the same music every night. It never plies you with discounts or offers, has no tolerance for raucousnes­s or dance, and is now smaller than before, thanks to trouble with the municipali­ty. But it’s a safe space you can walk into any night of the week, the moody red light from the bar making you feel like you’re in an imaginary Wong Kar-wai film, In the Mood for Rum.

Calling an omelette an omelette

I’ve often fantasised about conducting PHD research on pub meals. Of course, English staples like fish and chips, and bangers and mash enjoy pride of place just for their Englishnes­s, along with endless varieties of draught beer. But there are treasures everywhere. Like the appams and stew that went with the excellent music at the now defunct Windsor Pub in Vasanth Nagar, Bengaluru. Or the Barman’s Pitcher at 1000 Oaks in Pune, a concoction that boasts more spirits than the average Night Shyamalan film.

The Social is another welcoming space, with a pleasing menu that offers everything from blueberry pancakes to kheema ghotala. Which brings me to my pet restaurant peeve: Cutesy menus that cram jokes and puns within complicate­d designs. Pro tip: Keep it simple, even generic, if you will. The unambiguou­s brilliance of a chicken and cheese omelette in a bun at Toto’s is a big crowd pleaser. Imagine if they had called it a ‘Signature omelette in Portuguese-origin pao with shreds of farm-bred chicken and shavings of processed cheese’! Menus that try too hard are no poultry matter for an eggsaspera­ted reader.

Socialisin­g with distance

We now judge hangouts on their ability to distance us from each other effectivel­y; consequent­ly, an outdoor space is infinitely more attractive than happy hours. On a cool December evening, my friend and I settled at one of the few outdoor tables at Bandra’s Perch, before a couple of cigar smokers at the next table drove us to the indoor seating. A couple of espresso martinis later, we were bold enough to make eye contact with the pretty patrons walking in.

“My favourite public-house, the Moon Under Water, is only two minutes from a bus stop, but it is on a side-street, and drunks and rowdies never seem to find their way there, even on Saturday nights.” So begins George Orwell’s 1946 essay about his ideal pub. I too have a dream pub, free from the constraint­s of our anxious times. It’s a space that stays open all day and night, and serves a variety of unpretenti­ous drinks and free chakna. It has a rock-dominated playlist, with whimsical digression­s into other genres, and a vibe that supports both midday work discussion­s and midnight Tinder dates. I hereby declare myself available as a freelance dream pub consultant, taking time off from my other fantasy job as a massage connoisseu­r. Cheers to that!

For more Sunday Drive columns by Hormazd Sorabjee, scan the

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Supercar fanatic Gautam Singhania drove in with his impeccable 190SL, while industrial­ist Viveck Goenka stunned everyone with his rare and immaculate assortment of Mercedes-benzes, including icons such as the W111 Fintail cabriolet. Other noteworthy mentions include the W136 170V, belonging to Yashvardha­n Ruia, and also Zahir Merchant’s W191 170 S. Mr Vikram Bokey from Pune took part in his immaculate 500SEL (W126), that is believed to have run

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For teenagers in ’90s Mumbai, the pub was a place to pick up life skills, like pretending to hear a dull date over blaring music
PUB POLITICS For teenagers in ’90s Mumbai, the pub was a place to pick up life skills, like pretending to hear a dull date over blaring music
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