After having been stood up on a dinner engagement, Amitabh and I walked from Regal to Food Inn, which looked fine from outside. We decided to have dinner in the AC section upstairs. I didn’t notice anything, until Amitabh wondered: “Anand, why is it that there’s no one in this whole place except us?”
Well, there were, actually. 4 waiters, all standing with their backs to the same wall, with a tray in the hands, equidistant from each other. Looked like those thugs in movies who’d move away from the wall at the villain’s orders, and say, “Yes Boss!” Our hypothesis was that the place was run by the Mumbai mafia, and was the meeting point for the shady deals in the city.
It struck me as a fabulous idea, and I started writing it down. Only to notice a waiter peering at me. And then another. And yet another. To the innocent, it may appear that they gathered to take our order (which, incidentally, they did). Neither Amitabh nor I could be considered ‘innocent’ in any sense of the word, though. We quickly ordered (Amitabh mustering enough courage to crib that the dishes were being served too fast), and left, before the mafia arrived.
Nothing much to comment on the cuisine. The standard North Indian menu.