Okay, so right off the bat, Kheema Pav is a staple of Irani cafés. As I am the grandson of an Irani Chai walla, let’s just say this stereotype fits. Most of the cafes my grandfather was a partner in shut down ages ago, but he was a partner in City Bakery, Worli. So yeah, I am probably not the descendant of great kings and generals, but fuck it, we know how to serve up some kickass food.
Now that is out of the way, Kheema can be compared to Sloppy Joes, but I have always enjoyed this as one of my favourite breakfasts. Now, there is chicken kheema but I’ve never liked it. I prefer my kheema made from red meat, thank you very much. However, keep your consumption of red meat limited, you don’t want to have cholesterol issues.
On a lighter note, Kheema was the one thing that almost ended my parents’ marriage even before it happened. My mum decided to ‘impress’ my father by cooking some mutton kheema for him. This was very difficult for her because, as a lifelong vegetarian, meat grossed her out. She bought minced meat, washed it, cooked it, and when my father ate it, he abso-fucking-lutely hated it and told her so much to her face. Mum was miffed, but they agreed on a few things. Mum never cooked, served, or gave you company if you were eating meat. This way, they respected each other’s choices, and I got to learn a lot from both of them.
Anyway, if you want to make sure that your kheema isn’t as crappy as my mum’s, let’s Go To The Kitchen.