A lot of our readers are under the impression that we’re mean spirited. We are, but we try and keep our writing as objective as we can, and the government mandated subliminal propaganda as seamless as possible. If anything, we’re sensitive souls who act aversely to disappointment because we had sheltered childhoods. Now that you get where we’re coming from, here is our review of one of Mumbai’s oldest Iranis that at the time of writing this piece, hadn’t been turned into an H&M yet; Kyani & Co, Marine Lines.
If you’ve ever been near the bustling Metro Cinema junction in Marine Lines, you might have seen a building that seemingly violates every law of the National Building Code of India, and at least a few laws of physics. Show some respect, for that humble mass of whatever hosts one of the city’s oldest and most iconic eating establishments, which is unfortunately Kyani & Co. Unlike many things from 1904, it’s quite popular with the younglings, so we sent in some of our best men to find out why.
When you step inside Kyani, you will notice a certain degree of charm. There are cool black and white pictures of Mumbai and Iran from the 1920’s, which surprised us because we didn’t know Instagram filters existed back then. There’s a painting of a black (african american) gentleman fighting a lion, which despite the lack of context was extremely empowering to us; and they have adorable table cloths, which is what we’ve been told to say to appeal to women readers. The restaurant is open to the road, so you will get considerable whiffs of South Bombay pollution.
We called for seven items on the menu, four of which they actually had;
This secret, century old recipe comes straight from the depths of a Venky’s packet. It was decent, cheap and smelled like a chicken truck, but was still better than anything you’ll get at McDonalds.
The omelette sandwich was nothing out of the ordinary, but they did cut off the crusts, which proves they’re not beyond redemption. They only gave us one spoon for two people, but in their defence, numbers are an Arab thing.
This is an Irani version of Anda Bhurji, only it’s spicier and far more delicate. Again, one spoon, two bros, and we only got it after they gave us our dessert, which according to the Dungeons And Dragons alignment model would make Kyani Chaotic Evil.
The Mava Cake was undoubtedly the best thing we had at Kyani, they did give us one spoon for two cakes, but at this point we figured it was maybe a cultural thing. If there ever was a reason to go to Kyani it would be stupidity, but the Mava Cake is a worthy runner-up.
If we’re being honest the food wasn’t bad, it was decent, especially when you take into account that it costs a pittance. But should you go there? Absolutely not.
Our real beef with Kyani is the service, which is just terrible. Placing an order is less like a business transaction and more like a thorough interrogation, in which we were the guilty party. We even had a waiter walk out on us mid-sentence while we were trying to place our order. They refuse to note down your order so they’ll forget approximately half of what you called for; and so will you. And most shadily of all they’ll take away your bill once you’ve paid so there’s no way to check if you’ve been duped; and getting a copy is an irritating, bureaucratic process that would make the RTO blush.
Kyani is just an awful place, with no real redeeming qualities. BMC, do your thing.