![dishoom reservations dishoom reservations](https://media.cntraveler.com/photos/5a78c57f91ce4855a9c7c9d2/16:9/w_2560,c_limit/Dishoom__2018_8V7A5990-2.jpg)
Blake, momentarily dazed, looks around to get his bearings. They abruptly re-emerge in a large, opulently decorated and high-ceilinged room. Instantly, the wall rotates, swallowing the two men. Immediately, he feels the Irani’s wiry hands push him forward, as he places the tips of three fingers onto the plaque and pushes. Charity’ (which he remembers dimly as being words of Freemasonry). Blake sees a plaque on the wall with the carved-out words: ‘Faith. They walk towards the kitchen at the back of the café and pass behind a wooden screen out of sight from the other patrons. He senses that something dangerous may be afoot but follows anyway.
![dishoom reservations dishoom reservations](https://infatuation.s3.amazonaws.com/media/images/guides/where-to-go-for-an-indian-that-isnt-dishoom/KarolinaWiercigroch_DumBiryani_spread_2.jpg)
The two look at each other a brief moment before the Irani roughly jerks his head towards the back of the café, intimating that Blake should follow. Though Blake is now distracted from his musings by the old Irani who approaches his table. Beram was his match, and rivals as they were, there existed a bond of respect between them. His duty to justice had made him Blake’s direct adversary.īlake always recognised a good opponent. Indeed, the two men had been thrown against each other as opponents when Beram – a suave and mysterious mastermind with an intellect at least equal to Blake’s – sought reprisal for the desecration of a site sacred to his people. Since their last meeting, Blake had believed that a truce had been declared between he and Beram. Meet me in the Irani café behind the Freemasons’ Hall – I will know when you are there. Its few but forceful words are etched into his memory: “You must come to Bombay. He arrived in Bombay that morning, summoned by the note from enemy-turned-ally, Beram. The man observing is Sexton Blake, the world-renowned detective known for his penetrating intellect and his taste for fine cigars. He is perched behind a desk near the entrance, and appears to be the owner. As new customers enter, they exchange loud greetings with a wizened Irani sporting a prominent moustache and thick steel-rimmed glasses. In a corner, a well-dressed businessman reads The Bombay Chronicle, while a ‘modern’ woman opposite coolly waits for her breakfast. Students (chatting more loudly than they need to) tuck into their plates of omelettes. Families enjoy their morning tea and talk. He takes a sip of his strong chai and studies the character of the Irani café and its patrons. Slightly away from the scene outside, a smartly dressed Englishman with pomaded black hair and a lantern jaw, sits on a bentwood chair in Café Excelsior, an Irani café on Ravellin Street. Women in saris sit on flower-shrouded mats preparing garlands of roses and carnations and men in white kurtas dash around on errands.
![dishoom reservations dishoom reservations](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5b2d2fec3c3a53abd02abf64/1606825992675-IYUS9NCP6A3R4OZ3NUCV/Screenshot+2020-12-01+at+12.33.01.png)
Barbers deftly wield razors, while the chappal-seller unpacks neat baskets of shoes from the shoemaker. The roads are thronged with bullock carts, cycles and pedestrians and there is bustle and noise all along the pavement.