Mumbai matters: Melting pot

People from all walks of life converge on the unobtrusive canteens nestled in Fort’s heritage buildings. These are more than eating houses; in these niches, stories unfold, ideas are nurtured, and friendships forged.

October 26, 2017 04:21 pm | Updated 04:21 pm IST

Mumbai 23/08/2017:  Picture to go with Danila Yershov's story on Canteen in heritage buildings. Canteen at JJ school of art with painting of one of the owner Laxman Kotian seen on the wall.  Photo:  Vivek Bendre

Mumbai 23/08/2017: Picture to go with Danila Yershov's story on Canteen in heritage buildings. Canteen at JJ school of art with painting of one of the owner Laxman Kotian seen on the wall. Photo: Vivek Bendre

In South Mumbai's old business district, the Fort area, Victorian-era structures have watched generations of Mumbaikars scramble to work and back again every day. Many of these buildings house government offices and canteens, some dating back long before Independence, serving simple, reasonably priced fare to all visitorscomers.

A canteen, says conservation architect Rahul Chemburkar, is not just a structure. "Rather, it is an activity, a space of interaction, which brings out a person's true colours. Despite their limited menus, every canteen has a special dish. Some canteens become more popular than the organisations that house them."

Architect and academic Mustansir Dalvi says canteens are places that foster ideas. "When a canteen vanishes, where will people get together, how will they bring memories alive?" Even when they are a part of a structure, they stand alone, he says. “A wholly different life revolves around these canteens.

When the Factory Act was introduced in 1948, a company employing more than 250 people had to provide and maintain a canteen. The ‘non-statutory’ canteens run by unions for their members and the family-owned canteens came later. (It's worth noting, as Sanjay Sawant, Senior Heritage Conservation Engineer at the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation says, that most heritage buildings in Mumbai had never included plans for canteens. "Even the ventilation systems are attached to the buildings or kept in separate corridors.")

The Hindu serves up a taste of five such canteens.

As the trains chug in

Steven’s Kitchen Where: Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus Working hours: 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Started in: 1888

Tucked away behind the entrance to the main concourse, is a limestone structure topped with a terracotta chimney. Most commuters probably have no idea it exists as they scurry to get to office or to catch trains.

Called Stevens’ Kitchen, after Frederick William Stevens who designed Victoria Terminus, it was originally just a kitchen, from where food was brought out to the waiting rooms. With the nationalisation of the Railways in 1949-1950, the canteen too got a makeover.

While the interiors (and the sculpted chimney) are unchanged, steel rafters now support the corrugated roof, and the tall window frames have cast iron grills. A sign says, ‘Only for Railway workers,’ but it’s evidently not taken too seriously. People even come in with their lunch boxes.

Till the 90s, a cooperative society ran the canteen, but it is now in the hands of the Central Railways Workers Union. The government pays salaries, and for electricity and water.

It doesn’t offer too many dishes, but it is cheap. A blackboard facing the cashier announces the rates: misal pav at ₹8; pav bhaji for ₹14, tea at ₹4, ditto for a laddoo. S.K. Gawande, head of Central Railway Workers Canteen Workers Union, says, “You won’t find anything more affordable in the area; ex-employees too have been coming here for years.”

Sawant Satish proves his point: an electrician with the Central Railway for 35 years, he retired a decade ago but still visits. “I like the aloo bhaji, sev and tea here. The food is cheap, and nice and spicy.”

On national holidays, the canteen opens its doors to employees of service organisations like the Railway Police Force. And on special occasions like Ganesh Chaturthi, it serves up to 2,000 people.

Escape from the bustle

IRCTC Cafeteria, Jan Ahaar Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus Working hours: 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Started in: 1929

A little away from Steven’s Kitchen, on the second floor of the Central Railways building, is another canteen. You could take either the wide stairs or one of two elevators to it, or if you are entering from the concourse, a tiny service elevator or narrow, winding stairs.

When they were built in 1929, the stairs served as a fire escape, and eventually lead to the terrace, which has a grand view of the eastern face of the magnificent building, with the stately BMC building in the background.

The open corridor leading to the kitchen and the canteen was designed to protect them from the onslaught of the south-west monsoon. Now, though, it is enclosed, blocking a good deal of ventilation. The framed Burma teak doors, a couple of open shelves, and mirrors lining up the west wall are the canteen’s highlights. The kota-tile flooring was replaced in 1998.

Vikas Dilawari, conservation architect, says many canteens prioritise economic viability, “and hence present a more temporary kind of arrangement, which does not necessarily compliment their heritage status.”

The canteen itself is quiet, with a good deal of sunlight flooding in through the big windows that overlook the station platforms.The prices are on the lower end: veg thali ₹40 , ₹7 for a cup of tea.

Brahmatma Kumar, 52, who works with an insurance company nearby, has been a regular for over a decade. “I bring home-cooked food daily, but also order non-vegetarian food on Fridays. The chicken biryani here is delicious.”

Artists’ shelter

Where: Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy College of Architecture canteen Working hours: 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. Started in: 1938

The canteen in the verdant campus is an integral part of students’ lives. Once known as Sir JJ Canteen, it was managed by members of the Bhatt community from Gujarat, and from 1957 onwards, by the Kotian family. Mustansir Dalvi, now a teacher at the college, was a student here in the early ‘80s and remembers that the owner, Ramaiah Kotian, had a deep relationship with students, extending credit to many young artists and architects, especially the hostelites, freely distributed food and even paid the fees of those in financial difficulty.

“Many students have spent entire nights in this canteen,” says Mr. Dalvi. Rahul Chemburkar says, “We used to come here to share our lunch, our joys and sorrows, to spend some time with friends and prepare for exams.”In 1983, a pipal tree fell on the canteen, damaging it. The same year, Mr. Kotian died and his son, Lakshman took over the canteen. Not much changed though; the son continued the tradition of serving home-style meals and a bond with the students.

Things changed in 2003: the Kotians were accused of selling alcohol and evicted from their house behind the canteen. A contractor took over. But Mr. Lakshman is remembered: grateful students created a portrait of him on the wall of the shed.

The canteen has since had a makeover. Murals of musicians adorn the walls, and sculptures surround the canteen. In 2007, the original wooden windows were replaced with plastic ones. Some of the walls feature student art and graffiti, but they are a palimpsest, covered each year by a fresh coat of primer and paint.

After the canteen went to the contractors, some of the human touch was lost, but it remains a place for intense coffe-time debates. In this vegetarian canteen, the standard fare for a cup of tea is ₹5, a masala dosa or onion uttappa is ₹30, and a full meal costs all of ₹40.

A place for all

Shetty’s Canteen Where: Mumbai University, Fort Working hours: 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. (Closed on Sundays and alternative Saturdays) Started in: 1956

The University’s canteen lies at the end of a long corridor in the South Wing. The university’s administrative building was built in 1923, and back then, this wing housed record rooms and administration offices. Over the years, its activities have grown  and the staff strength now nears 1,000.

Soot covers the canteen’s tall metal-framed windows and doors, and customers are absorbed in their own conversations, barely noticing others who come in. Uday Shetty, originally from Mangalore, has been running the canteen for the past 20 years. “A variety of people come here. We don’t ask who they are and most of them prefer to keep a low profile,” he says.

The canteen caters to all departments of the University. Given its rather rudimentary facilities – not even a modern ventilation system – it is a wonder how it manages to serve thousands of customers every day. Fridays are special: you get a plate of chicken biryani, fried pomfret. and dal-rice for just ₹20 each. A cup of coffee costs ₹15.

At all times of the day, ‘Shetty’s Canteen’ as it is informally known, is brimming with visitors. From university professors and employees to policemen, judges, and employees in financial institutions nearby. Mr. Chemburkar says, “Generally, a canteen allows for a blanking out of designations. It shows a person’s true persona instead of what he or she tries to project. A judge comes here for lunch and shakes off her official discipline for half-an-hour.”

Harish Shah and Niket Joshi (names changed on request), second-year law students at Mumbai University, were bunking classes and seemed upbeat. “Would you like to have tea with us?” they ask.

Just like home

Where: Patil Canteen, Industrial Training Institute, next to St. Xavier’s College Working hours: 9 a.m to 6 p.m. (Shut on weekends) Started in: 1949

Patil Canteen is tucked away within this  institute most people can’t seem to name. it was a godown before Independence. Narayan Dagru Patil, who used to cater to the institute from his little tea shop at Girgaum, later started the canteen now run by grandson Sagar.

A photograph of the founder  with a few institute officials at the opening in 1949 hangs behind the cashier. There is also a small shrine, where Mr. Patil prays each mroning. The family lives nearby, and all meals are cooked in their kitchen.The interiors, wall frames and supporting structure are Burma teak, which resists termites and humidity. The two doors leading to the classrooms are now sealed.

“We have provided a confined place for the canteen so that there is no disturbance to either students or canteen employees,” says a civil engineer working for the institute, who did not wish to be named. Mr. Chemburkar offers a possible reason: “Canteens are often squeezed in as practical issues take precedence. They are never meant to be where you find them in the first place.”

This canteen is more crowded on Wednesdays and Fridays, the ‘no-fasting’ days, when up to 400 people stop by. Still, the Patils say business isn’t good. “We pay ₹35,000 as rent and the government does not subsidise anything,” Mr. Patil says. “But we keep serving home-cooked food.”

The canteen was a hang-out for Marathi theatre and film legends like Arun Sarnaik, Nilu Phule, Vasant Shinde and Ganapat Patil for decades, when the adjoining Rang Bhavan held regular performances. Ramakant Patil, who ran the canteen before son Sagar took over, says, “Theatre actors would come very often. They would book tables in advance and we became good friends.”

Originally it was exclusively vegetarian, but in the 1980s, Ratna Patil, Sagar’s mother, began serving non-vegetarian dishes as well.The customers, mostly students, who stream in for the 10 a.m. breakfast are treated to fresh upma, coffee and vegetable gravy in a friendly setting.

At lunch, the canteen hosts employees from the Small Causes and Chief Metropolitan Magistrate’s courts in Dhobi Talao, the Police Commissioner’s Headquarters at Crawford Market, and the nearby BMC headquarters, with people queuing up for mutton, chicken masala and sea food.

Milind Ingle, a lawyer at the Motor Accident Claims Tribunal, who has been eating here for the 12 years, says, “You will not find better food in the area. I usually take the surmai thali, but today I opted for a chicken thali, which is this canteen’s speciality.”

Tea time is  4 p.m. to 6 p.m., and never know who you will bump into: policeman, advocate, pharmacist or poet. “I’ve known most of our visitors personally since I was a kid,” says Mr. Patil, “Now I can tell who prefers what and why.”

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