bpb Review: Purple Rain

Purple Pour Down

Purple Rain, a restobar that made its debut over the weekend, certainly takes its moniker seriously. Padded walls, waiter uniforms, even cocktail straws sport various shades of purple; the patterned waterfall framing the entrance evokes rain. Accompanying these are a ceiling crisscrossed with exposed pipes, whitewashed pillars embedded with mirrors, and a migraine-inducing, internally lit bar that constantly changes colour. All in all, the place is a throw-back to the 1990s and underage nights at Fire and Ice. Flaming Vipers and DJ Goa Gil… those were the days.

Italian Parathas?

The décor’s incongruousness is reflected in the menu as well, but works much better here. We kicked off our meal with a batch of well-mixed, well-priced cocktails (all at about Rs 300). Be sure to try the bell pepper and lime martini – delicious and startlingly different, it was the highlight of our evening.

We wondered at how unwieldy the food menu was – at almost a foot and a half, it was awkward to prop on our laps and flip through. But one glance through, and its size made sense. There were 16 vegetarian starters alone, with three Jain options. The choices, explained the very earnest manager, sprang from a new concept of Indo-Italian fusion cuisine, where Italian dishes were uniquely adapted for the Indian palate. Sounded to us like a Tarla Dalal book.

Fusion Fantasies

The appetizers we ordered however, were far too sophisticated for most home chefs and reminded us that Purple Rain is headed by the celebrated Chef Max, who formerly cooked at Olive. Stuffed mushrooms (Rs 275) were moist and juicy; Jamaican Jerk Chicken Tikka (Rs 375) effortlessly melded two diverse cuisines; Cheese Cigarellos (Rs 275) were the least impressive of the trio, with a brittle casing and what tasted like Amul cheese.

But it’s the main courses in which the kitchen really hits its stride. Perhaps that’s because the chefs have more elements to work with here, to fully flesh out the east-meets-west concept. The Chicken Joneel (Rs 500) was intensely spiced and yum. Portobello Dahi Ke Kebab (Rs 600) consisted of fat mushrooms stuffed with herbed, creamy cheese and swimming in a gently spiced tomato broth, and a side of paratha squares, all of which went perfectly together. A neat trick to pull off.

We finished our meal with the Chocolate Bombe (Rs 350), the same molten chocolate cake popping up on every other menu across the city. This one was gooey and served with mild, nutty ice cream.

Identity Crisis

Purple Rain has an admirable goal – to bridge the gap between your mum’s kitchen and haute cuisine. And for the most part it succeeds in doing so. We just wish that the space was less overbearing and scattered. In its current avatar, it seems suspended between a comfort food restaurant and hectic night club, as if, like in the song, its creators can’t seem to make up their minds.

Getting there: Sobo Central, 3rd Floor, Near Haji Ali, Tardeo, call 66157100.