Growing up in Five Gardens, the 29-year-old fondly remembers playing chor-police, cricket, football, badminton and carrom at the gymkhana. “The colony is growing vertically, with beautiful old buildings and bungalows that had a character of their own giving way to plain-looking rectangular box high rises that are so aesthetically disgusting,” he says humbly as we walk into Cafe Irani Chai at Mahim, past two huge jars of Parle Kiss Me toffee. “I miss the colony being quieter, there are more people and cars now. What hasn’t changed is the really nice loving and caring people.” 

Irani chai

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At the cafe, he is friendly with the staff and even hugs one of them. “This is the only Irani cafe in the city where the staff is friendly, not snooty,” says the actor and voice artiste. “It makes you want to come back and of course, the food. It is as authentic as it can get. It has a home-cooked feel. My favourites are kheema ghotala (Rs 210), brun maska (Rs 55) and cheese poro (Rs 230). The ghotala is rich and smooth, not laden with grease.

Sandwich Icecream

The cheese poro is basically a cheese omelette but so much better—you can feel the rich creaminess. I wash it down with a bottle of raspberry soda (Rs 45) and no one makes it better than Pallonji’s. I’m not so much of an ice cream soda fan, though most in the community love it to bits.” Just before leaving, we wash everything down with a cup of Irani milk tea (Rs 26)—it is the perfect closing to our late-morning brekkie.

Chicken Puff

From Mahim, we headed straight to K. Rustom & Co. at Churchgate for Bunshah’s favourite ice cream in the city, speaking about the Parsi new year on the way there. “There is no one favourite Navroz memory for me—all are the same. We spend time with each other, eat a lot of food and get drunk. After a long nap, we head out in the evening to celebrate. We have dhan dar patio, not dhansak, as opposed to what people think.

Club sandwich

The only thing my granny knew to make was custard and she made it really well; everything else she made was terrible, so I used to love to eat that,” he says. At K. Rustom’s, we had to run to the ATM for cash because they are still old school and do not accept  UPI or cards. Bunshah asked for his favourite lime and lemon but it was out of stock, so he opted for Kiwi (Rs 100) and Apricot (Rs 100); and we share a rum and raisin (Rs 80)—our all-time favourite.

Chicken Burger

Next up, was our ride to Dadar Parsi Colony to the cafe that is the new adda of college students and  the place rings with intense debates. In the outhouse of Dina Manzil, the cosy outdoors Cafe 792 has quite a few wholesome and pocket-friendly snacks and meals sourced from the colony’s  home chefs. “The club sandwich (Rs 250) puts gymkhana sandwiches to shame,” boasts Bunshah.

Even here, the staff treats Bunshah like an old buddy. “I know the owner and also, I am a regular here,” he adds. For a tiny space, the cafe offers an impressive variety of burgers, sandwiches, and sweet and savoury baked items (puffs, pattis and eclairs); and to keep up with their trendy clientele, they serve kombucha (Rs 80). 

Cheese Poro

Speaking of the new year, Bunshah tells us how some people come up to him and wish, Happy Pateti. “There is no “Happy” pateti. The word pateti comes from patet [meaning repentance] and is the day before the Parsi New Year, reserved for reflecting on our thoughts, words and deeds. It’s the day when we pray to our ancestors to come bless us—like an All Souls day; so clearly, you can’t be wishing us Happy Pateti. Don’t try to sound all cool and be a fool... just wait till New Year’s day  to wish us Navroze mubarak,” he laughs.