From its numerologically enhanced spelling, to a menu
with food and drink that’s all over the place (quite literally), Pergula makes
a perfectly ho-hum debut as Colaba’s newest friendly neighbourhood gastropub!
By Raul Dias
Intrigued by a rather bombastic sounding press release
talking of a ‘quaint gastropub in the heart of Colaba’, our first attempt at
checking out Pergula—never mind the numerologically altered spelling of the
garden feature, a pergola—is frustratingly futile. Despite aforementioned
release and all other indicators on social media pointing out its opening time
as 12.30pm, we are told it only opens at 2pm, before being summarily banished
by the doorman. So, beware!
Attempt number two the next day had us troop in at a more ‘kosher’ (from their viewpoint, at least) 2.45pm to find the place relatively full, with a mix of tourists, students and the odd on-a-late-lunch-break office goer. Seeming more like a night place than day, the dimly lit, smallish space—that serves as the mezzanine level section of the popular Café Royal—calls itself a cosy neighbourhood café and bar with an eclectic menu. One that references everything from the by-now-ubiquitous Cantonese baos to the even more ubiquitous Mexican nachos.
Instead, we call for a corn tempura roll (Rs 355) and are at once put off with our very first bite off the eight-piece sushi serving. Stale, flabby grains of rice, attempt to cling unenthusiastically to soggy bits of deep fried baby corn, with a pasty, peppermint-tasting blob standing in for the promised wasabi.
The French-inspired chicken Cordon Bleu (Rs 550) mercifully fares infinitely better. All this, thanks to the two juicy chicken breast roulades stuffed with ham and cheese, both enrobed with an an almost silken mushroom sauce and served with a side of basil-scented mashed potatoes.
Things quickly begin to spiral downwards again, when our plate of Mexican buff chilli (Rs 575) is plonked rather brusquely on to our table. Chewy, sinew-redolent bits of buffalo meat swim in an overtly sweet bell pepper sauce, with a side of limp, oily grilled veggies. The only saving grace is the accompanying buttery herbed rice that we wish we’d been served more of.
Our cunning bid at combining both a drink and a dessert by ordering the dough apple cinnamon freakshake (Rs 450) backfires, as we sip at a visually appealing, but watery milkshake that barely registers the presence of apple or cinnamon in it. We, perhaps, should have stuck to the rather pedestrian offerings in the dessert section, featuring a similar sounding trio of gooey chocolate with ice cream (Rs 250), molten chocolate with ice cream (Rs 275), and chocolate brownie with ice cream (Rs 250).
Maybe we’d have had better luck. Numerologically speaking, that is!
Attempt number two the next day had us troop in at a more ‘kosher’ (from their viewpoint, at least) 2.45pm to find the place relatively full, with a mix of tourists, students and the odd on-a-late-lunch-break office goer. Seeming more like a night place than day, the dimly lit, smallish space—that serves as the mezzanine level section of the popular Café Royal—calls itself a cosy neighbourhood café and bar with an eclectic menu. One that references everything from the by-now-ubiquitous Cantonese baos to the even more ubiquitous Mexican nachos.
Instead, we call for a corn tempura roll (Rs 355) and are at once put off with our very first bite off the eight-piece sushi serving. Stale, flabby grains of rice, attempt to cling unenthusiastically to soggy bits of deep fried baby corn, with a pasty, peppermint-tasting blob standing in for the promised wasabi.
The French-inspired chicken Cordon Bleu (Rs 550) mercifully fares infinitely better. All this, thanks to the two juicy chicken breast roulades stuffed with ham and cheese, both enrobed with an an almost silken mushroom sauce and served with a side of basil-scented mashed potatoes.
Things quickly begin to spiral downwards again, when our plate of Mexican buff chilli (Rs 575) is plonked rather brusquely on to our table. Chewy, sinew-redolent bits of buffalo meat swim in an overtly sweet bell pepper sauce, with a side of limp, oily grilled veggies. The only saving grace is the accompanying buttery herbed rice that we wish we’d been served more of.
Our cunning bid at combining both a drink and a dessert by ordering the dough apple cinnamon freakshake (Rs 450) backfires, as we sip at a visually appealing, but watery milkshake that barely registers the presence of apple or cinnamon in it. We, perhaps, should have stuck to the rather pedestrian offerings in the dessert section, featuring a similar sounding trio of gooey chocolate with ice cream (Rs 250), molten chocolate with ice cream (Rs 275), and chocolate brownie with ice cream (Rs 250).
Maybe we’d have had better luck. Numerologically speaking, that is!
AT: Indian Mercantile Mansion, opposite Regal Cinema, Colaba.
CALL: 22883985/65140197
(An edited version of this review appeared in the 25th January 2018 issue of the Mid-Day newspaper, India https://www.mid-day.com/articles/mumbai-food-colaba-gastropub-disppoints-with-its-indifferent-service-and-confusing-menu/18976161)
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