The Lovefools is Sarita Pereira's creative take on exotic flavours

No large neon light. No painted billboard. Not a single sign to tell you you’ve reached chef Sarita Pereira’s The Lovefools, which is housed in a nameless, rickety Bandra bungalow that is as unlike a fancy tasting menu restaurant as it gets. And that’s exactly how she likes it. The only landmark is another restaurant opposite it —  Pali Village Café. 

As I walk up the stairs, I bump into Pereira — a gamine Goan in her 40s who is simultaneously charming and business-like. I’m scolded for being too early and then seated in a corner from where I watch the place being set up in a fitting prelude to the eight-course meal.

An interior designer’s office by day and restaurant by night, the nondescript bungalow with unremarkable furniture, a black-and-white picture of Marilyn Monroe on a wall and a bookcase in one corner has barely three or four tables. I look at the cold metal-wood chairs and wonder if I’ve reached the wrong house. Pereira had earlier emailed me asking about allergies and preferences. So I’d expected a fancy marble and glass establishment and not the warm, simple home that could belong to a friend.

But soon the transformation begins. The tables are swiftly rearranged, the lights dimmed and speakers I can’t see play a Bossa Nova version of the Eagles “I Can’t Tell You Why”. 

Eat sheet

> Cuisine: Global

> Hours: 8.30 pm to 11 pm (reservations required)

> Address: 124 Pereira House, Ambedkar Road, Mumbai

> Price: Rs 3,000 per person, corkage extra

> Seating capacity: 25

> Website: www.thelovefools.com
 

Minutes later, the eight-course menu kicks off with Parmesan ice-cream on a bed of filo stuffed with sweet and spicy onions and chicken. Some dishes look savoury but taste sweet. It’s the opposite here. Reminiscent of vanilla ice-cream layered onto a slice of baklava, this, of course, tastes like Parmesan and chicken. I am half-way through when Pereira swings by to explain her creation — something she does after every serving. Her menu is fixed but one can specify meat preferences and allergies.

Next up is the restaurant’s signature dish from 2017: Umami-flavoured lettuce wraps served with mushroom and a side of Barramundi fish. Small in portion, the fish doused in miso sauce presents a clean buttery texture.

What Pereira offers diners is more than just food that looks like modern art. Conversations in a welcoming environment and flavours that are original is where her culinary nous kicks in. If anything, “I don’t do Indian desserts. And, I don’t want my restaurant to ever come across as snooty or only for the super-rich,” she says. “Come in your flip flops as long as you love food.”

Course three is a black pomfret dish called “Peace”. That is because it combines hummus, shakshuka and labneh from bitter neighbours, Israel and Palestine. Peace looks like a liquid flag of green, red and white in a saucy stew accompanied by a sliver of fish. It throws up bold, pungent flavours that are both Mediterranean and West Asian at once. Pereira buys the ingredients when travelling overseas. For Peace, she sourced them from stores in Berlin.

As I begin to wonder how I am going to get through four more courses, a waiter arrives with prawns with lobster bisque sauce served on a bed of zucchini and green apple salad. The crustacean, which is fresh and cooked just right, comes with a taste of ocean spray combined with classic bisque.

How many items does she have up her sleeve? Hundreds, says Pereira who introduces at least two new dishes in the menu every week. I tackle smoked chicken with Spanish sauce followed by a petite lamb burger with habanero sauce encased in miniature nut-bread gluten-free buns. Placed toward the end of the meal, this is the most substantial of the dishes, which makes for good strategy. 

We’re down to the finish line. The dessert, which is vegan, gluten-free and light, is mixed berries in fresh almond tart — the perfect foil to the burger’s gamey flavour. Last comes a dark chocolate mousse-textured ice-cream dessert. I take a bite and mistake it for cake, or chocolate.

Is the name of the restaurant a pejorative that implies that the deepest of human emotions is nature’s prank on man? Quite the contrary, Pereira says. “It’s from a belief that it’s okay to follow what you love doing without thinking of the consequences. I hope there are more people out there who think the same way.” For the sake of cuisine in Mumbai, we hope so too.