It’s located in Melbourne’s Little Saigon, but the ‘balls of joy’ will transport you elsewhere

It’s the kind of wacky transition you might encounter in a Bollywood movie. I pop a pani puri in my mouth on Victoria Street, crunching into a thin pastry sphere (the puri), enjoying the rush of sour tamarind dressing (pani, or “spiced water”), and I’m transported to the steamy streets of Mumbai, standing in front of a vendor selling snacky balls of joy.

That vivid culinary teleportation means Bombay Meri Jaan (“Bombay, my life”) is succeeding in its mission: transposing India’s diverse, food-obsessed western metropolis to multicultural, food-crazy Melbourne.

Talk to a local Indian chef these days and they’re likely to lament our old-school curry houses and their narrow version of northern Indian food. “It’s not all butter chicken and garlic naan,” I’ve heard dozens of times. Indeed, Indian food is so varied, storied and layered that it almost feels too narrow to lock it under one country’s name. We are doing better: there’s more southern Indian food these days (dosas, curry leaves, coconut) and unique, expressive restaurants, such as Enter Via Laundry and Saadi.

Bombay Meri Jaan plays it both ways. They do butter chicken (it’s good, juicy, tandoor-cooked chook in a rich tomato gravy), but it’s a gateway through which to lure initiates to other dishes.

‘I get pho from my neighbour, he comes in for butter chicken.’

Bombay Meri Jaan chef Punit Fernandes

There’s chole masala, chickpeas in tangy gravy soured with dried pomegranate and mango powders. You might choose that as part of a thali, a great-value tray meal with samosa, rice and dessert.

Don’t miss the ragda patties, a Mumbai hawker classic. Cumin-spiced potato cakes are laid over split-pea sauce and lavished with chutneys. It’s textural and messy, brash and comforting, an all-round win.

The meat curries are on point. Braised goat is flavoured with charred onions and aromatic, sweet-smoky byadagi chillies. Railway lamb curry is a gentle Anglo-Indian dish that includes potatoes and was designed to keep colonial British stomachs settled on long, rattly train journeys.

The Borivali cooler also has a railway connection: named after a Mumbai station, it’s a lemon-mint soda flavoured with cumin and black salt.

Bombay Meri Jaan’s owners are Sanjay Bista and chef Punit Fernandes, a Mumbai native; the pair had a restaurant in Black Rock called Elichi, which shuttered during the pandemic. Fernandes has a long, strong history as a chef, including stints at Rockpool and W Melbourne. He’s now balancing an executive chef role at Parkroyal Monash with this passion project.

You sense his whole heart in the rasmalai, a beguiling dessert that employs a series of clever processes to turn mundane into magic. Milk is split into cheese, the ricotta-like curd kneaded into balls that are fried, soaked in sugar syrup, then served in a saffron-spiked milk. Humble to start with, it becomes a luxurious dumpling of distinction.

Victoria Street is known as Little Saigon but, these days, there are also brew pubs, ramen joints and cafes. One of my favourite stories about the morphing strip comes from Fernandes himself: “I get pho from my neighbour, he comes in for butter chicken,” he told me. “Sometimes, people need a change.” If that alternative comes in the form of this bright, fresh, friendly restaurant, Melbourne is only the richer.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.