Indi’Go’ deli

Indigo (the restaurant) was my favourite place to dine at as I became a teenager. They served exotic Italian food (in an age when Little Italy and Trattoria were the only Italian restaurants), Hrithik Roshan (the then love of my life) ate there and it was ‘different’. My idea of success in life was the day I could eat at Indigo just like that (don’t curse me for low ambition, currently Nobu, London is the aim)

A Deli, is a place which sells cured meats, exotic cheeses and more by weight. On the side, it offers a dine-in experience mostly made up of sandwiches and salads (thanks Wikipedia). In all honesty, its an informal yet delicious dining experience. The Indigo Deli isn’t cheap but isn’t as hoitytoity as the Colaba restaurant and proves wonderful for Indigo fangirls like me. I get to see or buy my favorite cheeses, I get to feel the bustle while enjoying good food and well, its a nice ‘New Yorkish’ experience. Or was.

Monday evening, however, was a dampener. We walked in early, to get a table in their dining section. We  managed to get a table in the deli area because it was quite empty, but I asked for a table in the dining section. I was told the section was closed. That’s it . No reason. The Bawa guessed it could open at a later time and he asked why it was closed.
‘It only opens at 7.’

My watch said it was 6.56 pm, but before I could say anything, I was told, the section was only by reservation only.

‘Can I reserve a table now?’

‘Its booked up ‘

Wow. What a way! The staff is so well versed with the seating chart that she doesn’t even want to check before telling me that the seating was full. Now, if this was a Saturday or a Friday, I’d believe her, but it was a Monday. The Bawa pulls a lawyer and waits a while before saying that he just called their landline and was told that there was a table.

The lady, in all her earnestness says that that was because the section opened at 7.30. Wow! The time changed and she knew it without anyone telling her. Talk about telepathy.

Was there a need to lie? By the time the manager came (upon our calling of course), I decided I did not want to  eat there anymore. The manager was sweet, well behaved and extremely apologetic. She did try to cover up for the goof up and I give her points for that, but the damage was done. Probably, with my fatku jeans and crumpled shirt the waitress had thought I wasn’t worth a table. If I was sporting a Louis vuitton bag, I would get better treatment, I am sure.

Because in truth eating at Indigo (the restaurant), is often like being in Goa during the X’mas season. Unless you’re well dressed and look like you deserve a table, no bhao. I don’t mind that because well, Indigo is quite formal. But the reason I thought the Akerkars started a Deli was to cater to a crowd less formal and hence there would be no snootiness. But today, I was mildly shocked and massively annoyed.

If you lie to me blatantly and point fingers and loudly bitch about me, I’m taking my business elsewhere. You deserve my money if you can be nice to me.

Serving great food alone isn’t enough. Being kind while doing so is what brings a customer back. With their lies and more lies, Indigo Deli lost itself a customer. But more importantly my evening was almost ruined. Thank God we walked out!

PS: Sherine, I know you wanted to eat there… I apologise on their behalf.

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