Mumbai House

He said:

We stopped by Mumbai House for an early dinner on a Thursday afternoon. Even though we arrived just after 4:30, the restaurant already had more than a handful of customers. A steady stream continued to arrive throughout our visit, a testament to the restaurant’s popularity.

At first, as we stepped out of the bright afternoon sun, the interior of Mumbai House seemed quite dark. However, our eyes quickly adjusted, and we found a cozy dining room clad in wood and jewel tones. Over our table hung a painting of a festival procession of musicians, dancers, horses, and elephants in front of a palatial fortress, but in other areas of the room we could spot large murals on the walls. Areas of the dining room were separated by partitions punctuated with ogee arches. We could hear a variety of Sikh music in the background, often with a harmonium and dilruba¹ accompanying a vocal hymn.

As our host showed us our table, he invited us to use a QR code to access the menu. However, he was happy to bring us printed menus when I asked. I found the menu quite familiar, similar to those I’ve seen in other area restaurants. This came as no surprise to me, as I knew that Mumbai House has several cousin restaurants. Just two years ago, three owners of a small restaurant chain separated, and this location became Mumbai House. Its shared history with the other restaurants may explain their similar menus².

Over the last few years, as Kathy and I have learned a little bit about Indian cuisine, we’ve come to settle on a few favorite dishes. This time, however, we decided to branch out and try some new things. We started with a Tandoori dish. A tandoor (plural tandoori) is a type of clay cooking oven used in the Punjab region of northern India and eastern Pakistan.

Literally meaning “land of five rivers,” Punjab is dominated by fertile plains. Its pivotal role in wheat and rice production has made it known as the “Granary of India.” Its diverse culinary heritage comes from many cultures, as the region has been invaded and settled at times by Persians, Greeks, Mughals, and British. The Sikh religion also traces its origins to Punjab.

From Punjab’s agricultural abundance and multicultural heritage come its hearty, flavorful dishes. Wheat and rice make many different types of bread, including naan, roti, and paratha, but dairy also plays a big role in Punjabi cuisine. Butter, ghee, paneer, and yogurt feature prominently. Many of their foods are slow-cooked or roasted, often in a tandoor, which can impart a bit of smoky flavor to the dishes. Their sweeter cuisines include lassi, a yogurt-based drink, and Gaja ka halwa, a carrot pudding.

So, we began with an order of Tandoori Chicken. For this dish, chicken thighs are first marinated in yogurt, garlic, ginger, and other spices, then barbecued on skewers in a tandoor. It came to our table on a sizzling iron skillet. It quite resembled a fajita skillet, complete with onions, bell peppers, and even lime wedges. It lacked hot spice, a fact greatly appreciated by Kathy, but didn’t lack flavor. The chicken was soft, tender, and very juicy. It was definitely a winner, a dish we will likely order again.

We departed again from our norm for our second dish. We often order one chicken dish and one lamb offering. This time, we went “veg” and ordered the Paneer Masala. In this dish, we recognized the familiar masala flavor of tomatoes, ginger, garlic, bell peppers, onion, cream, and spices, but I found this rendition particularly creamy.

Paneer is a “sour milk” cheese, made by adding an acid—like lemon juice—to hot milk and then removing the whey. Considered a soft cheese, paneer still has enough firmness to maintain its shape, even after sliced and cooked in a masala sauce. I enjoyed its mild and creamy flavor and didn’t at all miss having meat in my dish.

Aromatic basmati rice and naan accompanied our entrées. We often order Peshawari Naan, which is stuffed with coconut, raisins, and cashews. I always like it, even though the waitstaff sometimes seem amused that we eat it with our meal rather than as a dessert. But this time, we went with a simple garlic naan. I’ve avoided it in the past out of fear that the garlic might be overpowering, but that wasn’t the case. The garlic enhanced the buttery flatbread, but didn’t draw too much attention to itself.

She said:

Back in February of 1988, my cousin won a trip—via a hockey games sweepstakes—to London, England. We were both university students at the time, and he invited me to go with him. How exciting! We flew to Heathrow from Montreal with a sense of adventure and some anticipation about what awaited us.

Well, we had a really great time riding on a double-decker bus, visiting the Tower, walking around Picadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square, etc. But one thing we did was dine at an authentic Indian restaurant.

Being from a small town where the most exotic food we’d ever eaten was at a local Chinese restaurant, this was a treat for us! Turns out I really enjoyed the Indian dishes we ordered, even if they were a bit on the spicy side. (My tolerance level was obviously higher back then.)

Fast-forward almost three decades since graduation, marriage, having children, moving several times, etc., I found myselft living in Utah. After dining out and trying different restaurants around us, Brian and I stumbled onto an Indian restaurant, and thus my love of Indian cuisine was rekindled.

So, we recently decided to go to Mumbai House for an early dinner, and we weren’t disappointed. Brian did an admirable job of describing the décor of the restaurant, but I wanted to add something. Upon entering the premises, I immediately noticed all the golden-toned wood everywhere: chairs, tables, walls, flooring, etc. I mentioned to Brian that the place must have once been a steakhouse. Well, I was wrong. Once we'd returned home, a search on Bing³ brought up the fact that it used to be a fine dining establishment called The Mustang. (It has since relocated to Park City).

But I wanted to point out that the proprietors of the Mumbai House injected a bit of India into our surroundings. I noticed the brightly painted artwork depicting Indian culture; the small tapestries stitched in amber, ruby, and emerald; a large mural portraying a man and woman sitting back-to-back with the guy holding a sitar. Were they a romantic couple taking a break from the hectic world, I wondered.

But the one thing I loved the most was the richly hued, deep purple ceiling. That's right. A PURPLE ceiling! It was great because purple is my absolute favorite color. Because I'm quirky that way. Left to my own devices, I would TOTALLY paint several rooms in our house purple and violet. But I know Brian would surely object. 😜

As Brian said, we chose new things to try this time around. All of it was filling and delicious. I’m always asking Brian to order some dishes that are graced with generous portions of vegetables. Which is why I was very pleased that the Tandoori Chicken included onions and green and red bell peppers. My enjoyment of this dish was amplified by the wonderful flavors from the ginger, garlic, and other spices.

Since I’d asked Brian to order, I hadn’t paid a lot of attention to what he told the waitress. Consequently, when I saw the bright orange sauce and whitish chunks in one of the serving dishes, I thought it was Lamb Masala. Uh, nope. One bite and I knew it wasn’t meat; it felt like tofu. Brian corrected me by telling me it was paneer. Never heard of it, so I asked him what I was eating. He explained that it was what the people in India called “cottage cheese,” even though it doesn’t resemble our version of cottage cheese. So, I said, “Well, it’s cheese. How can you go wrong!” and dug in to scoop some more of that yumminess onto my plate.

As usual, I quickly filled up and had no room for dessert, even though I was eyeballing the mango ice cream. Maybe next time . . .

Conclusion:

Whether you're a fan of Indian cuisine or new to it, Mumbai House is a great place to enjoy a satisfying meal that showcases the rich culinary heritage of northern India.