Qualia is all you’d expect from the original masterchef, says Kunal Vijayakar

I am attempting not to praise Rahul Akerkar’s Qualia, only because it’s very rare that I start eulogising a restaurant after my first visit there. I am also trying very hard to stick to my truism that praise comes from me quite miserly. I am trying not to overstate the elation and rapture I felt, as I left the restaurant after eating that meal.

So before I turn into a gushing fanboy, let me talk about Akerkar himself. Somewhere in the ’90s, south Mumbai’s beau monde started prattling about how theatre actress Jinx Akerkar’s son had returned from abroad armed with an engineering degree and wanted to give it all up, to do some catering.

I knew the Padamsees and the da Cunhas and Jinx had dabbled with The Theatre Group, so I heard the news too. Even at that time I thought to myself, that fellow must have gumption. The next nugget the grapevine brought in was that ‘the Akerkar boy’ had started a catering service from home called The Moveable Feast, which did French-European food for home parties. This was a time when catering for parties from home meant you either slaved in the kitchen along with your cooks and maids, or hired a chef for the day or ordered in from an Indian or Chinese restaurant.

Just as The Movable Feast was making the city’s movers drool came Just Desserts. Along with AD Singh, Rahul appropriated Parisian Bakery and Café, an Irani eatery in Fort, for the evenings. The café downed shutters at 6 pm, and that’s when Rahul and AD brought it alive with desserts and coffee. It was insane. Bombay thronged to this place; there was music, coffee, pastries, not only in the café but flowing out onto the pavements and on top of bonnets of cars.  

Just Desserts then moved over the weekends to The Ripon Club, but permissions and landlord woes shut it all down.

I lived at Breach Candy then. A faux hard rock café had opened near China Garden, and Open House, under the Kemps Corner flyover, was quite the rage for burgers and stuff. One fine day, Open House shut and Under the Over opened. It was 1992 and we had never seen a café like that in our little lives. Rahul’s personality was written all over the smart, stylish, bright, simple restaurant. Twenty-seven years later I still remember the menu. Stuffed potato skins, cheesy nachos and chicken Dijonnaise (a creamy mustard sauce with bacon bits). And the piece de résistance, the Hungry Man’s Barbecue. Half a chicken roasted and smothered in a smoky, sweet and tangy sauce. And brownies and Bailey’s cheesecake for dessert.

Here I’d like to emphasise that I’d never heard of brownies or cheesecake before that, and neither had most people. By that time I had met Rahul, but by chance. I was art directing an ad campaign that was being photographed by the then young shutterbug Atul Kasbekar. Rahul (with hair), featured prominently in the photograph, all double-breasted with a hand-tied bow. I’d then meet him as he bustled around in and out of the kitchen of Under the Over.

I have very fond memories of that place; two stand out for me. The first a very spirited lunch with writer, author and friend Nisha da Cunha who accompanied me thinking she’d have to settle for a salad, since she was vegetarian, but was pleasantly surprised. And the second, a heart-to-heart with Cyrus Broacha who had quit his first proper job that morning so that he could head to New York to study acting. Unfortunately Under the Over shut down, and my lament will always be that very little remains documented about a restaurant that changed the way we ate in Bombay.  

Then came Indigo. The first standalone fine-dine restaurant in the city. Rahul took over this little cottage in a bylane of Colaba and shook all five-star hotels out of their complacency. Indigo elevated the dining experience to the highest level, with design, cuisine and a focus on modern and classic-modern food. The clubby bar counter with dining areas, its terrace with a deep, brown cigar lounge. The lobster bisque with hints of fennel, Camembert soufflé truffle fondue, beef carpaccio with capers, the risottos made to perfection, pork belly slow-cooked with bacon jam. This was gastronomy at its best. I had many a good meal and dozens of great boozy evenings stumbling down the wooden staircase and onto the pebbled exit, looking up at the lonely dome of the Taj at night.

Then another first, Indigo Deli, which opened where Nanking once stood. Top-notch design, lots of wine, the best charcuterie and fromagerie, great sandwiches, pizzas, mains, dessert and breads. And then Neel at Tote on the Turf, the finest Awadhi food. I could go on and on, but I need to get to Qualia before I run out of ink and space.

Staged with high ceilings, chainmail curtains, jars of pickled viands; you enter to the soothing crackle and pop of a wood fire that heralds warmth and energy and embraces you. Qualia is a spectacular space. It’s posh, yet approachable. The staff is friendly and warm, yet proper. In his words, Rahul brings his international and Konkani tastebuds together in a chorus of strong flavours and vibrant textures.

I started with the oxtail tortelletti. Little packages of pasta stuffed with tender meat in a reduced and flavourful bold meat stock with roasted onions a la a French onion soup. It was fresh and resolute. Next the steak tartare. Smarting and pickled, perfectly denatured meat served along with cured egg, pickled mushrooms, capers, chives and a slice of homemade sourdough.

Coimbatore pork chops in a cider cumin glaze with white beans, poignant candied tomatoes and crunchy sage leaves. And pizza for my finale. Half with steak and eggs and the other with clams and mussels. The steak and poached egg, with mushrooms, tomatoes, aged cheddar and mozzarella, and the mollusk with black garlic, confit potato, Emmental and arugula. Not about to leave without dessert I finished with the Textures of Bitter Chocolate —soil, ganache, wafers and wonderful things.

I’ll put it this way: there are gimmicks and mimics and then there is Rahul.