As a media powerhouse that perpetually pushes the limits of quality, right-wing food journalism, we often have citizens writing in to tell us that we’re heroes who’ve changed their lives. Having recently completed our first round of seed funding, where we traded two thirds of our equity shares for a pouch of magic beans, we consciously made the decision to use our newly acquired wealth to once again redefine the face of food blogging, by going international. So we decided to go to Thane.
After one of the longest, most painful train rides of our young lives, and passing through strange new places like Bhandup, we finally arrived at Thane station. Based solely on jokes we made up on the train ride, we expected Thane to be a rich forested area, with talking trees and strange, fantastic beasts; but instead were greeted by what seemed to be an autonomous micro-city, far removed from the hustle and bustle of Mumbai. Given how we were unwelcome foreigners, we decided to limit our movements to within 500 metres from the station, so we could make for a quick escape should a angry mob of angry locals try and run us out of town with pitchforks.
After visiting some noted landmarks, namely a slightly cleaner version of Bandra talao and what can only be described as the world’s lowest flyover, it was time to get to business. The real reason for our going to Thane wasn’t to get off the grid & escape our investors as the media would have you believe; It was to visit what was supposedly a great seafood restaurant called Karwar Fish Curry, that somehow managed to change its name to Krishna Resto Bar in the 45 minutes it took us to get there. It was an unusual turn of events no doubt, but after coming all that way and braving the hot summer sun and the indignity of taking the Central Line, weren’t going to go home empty handed.
Krishna is up on the 6th floor of a mundane looking building overlooking Thane Bus Depot. We found their choice rather unusual, but that was only until we saw the view, which was as stunning a display of the ghats as is possible in a crowded residential area. It wasn’t a seedy joint like we’d expected, but a rather large, coastal themed restaurant, with exquisite paintings of fishermen on the walls and an incredibly well stocked bar. Looking at how nice the place was, we expected the prices to be considerably above the budged we’d allocated for the occasion, and were presently surprised to see that it wasn’t. A single bottle of Kingfisher Strong at Krishna was Rs. 270, which would put it the same range as Janata, in Bandra. Not a bad deal at all. [UPDATE: A Kingfisher Strong at Janata is now Rs. 310. Bandra has fallen]
Given the horrors we’d faced to get there, Krishna’s beautiful view, coupled with the cold, cheap beer and hot girls in short dresses pretending to care about the IPL on Star Sports, this was as close to heaven on Earth as we deemed possible. Then our food arrived.
People often ask us how we manage to come up with so many different ways to describe Bombil Fry, and we never tell them because it’s a closely guarded company secret. The bombil at Krishna was excellent. The preparation was as close to perfect as we’d ever experienced, so much so that we forgot to add lemon or even dip it in the chutney. In our defence, we still were fixated by the large TV in front of us playing the IPL half time show. There wasn’t anything unique or special about it, it wasn’t extra crunchy on the outside or marinated in some exceptionally spicy masala. It was simply the most delicious, perfect, classic Bombil Fry, the epitome of a deep fried lizardfish, which in our opinion all other Bombil Fries, big or small, should be measured against. It was a bit expensive for bombil, but given how this is a professional seafood restaurant only posing as a dive bar, we can’t complain.
The Tisrya Sukha at Krishna Resto Bar was spicy and coconutty like all the others, but what really took us aback was the sheer size and quality of the clams. They were almost as big as crabs; and that isn’t entirely an exaggeration. They were also unbelievably fresh, as if they’d just been harvested earlier that morning. It wouldn’t be far-fetched for us to say that we found Mumbai’s biggest and freshest tisryas in Thane.
Prawns Tawa Fry
Our only really disappointment at Krishna were the Prawns Tawa Fry. And that was partly our fault because our weak, urban palates, were ill-equipped to handle all the rich spices, and at that point we were each down a vada pav, a missal pav, two beers, and everything else on this list. The Prawns Tawa Fry were medium sized prawns, coated in an extremely thick, rich masala and shallow-fried. A rather forgettable experience overall.
The Decree: We didn’t expect a day that involved us going to Thane would turn out to be so blessed, a serene afternoon with cold beers, a beautiful view, and calming Bach music playing through the speakers. Krishna Restaurant and Bar truly was something incredible. Would we be brave the odds and pay it a visit sometime soon? Absolutely. And we highly recommend you do too.