Bandra has a line problem

On August 18, 2025, Santa Maria Sandwich Shop in Ranwar Village in Bandra, Mumbai, took to Instagram to share that they would be closing their doors the following week: “It’s been really short notice for us, and even more so for you. It breaks our hearts to share that we are now forced to step away.” Its patrons reciprocated the sentiment in a spate of comments—from regret that they never made it there even though it was on their list, well-wishes, and even the occasional “this hurts more than my last breakup”.

In the days that followed, Bandra diners showed their support the only way they knew how: by queuing in long, winding lines. If there’s one thing Bandra has an appetite for, it’s standing in line. 

The tony suburb is not new to queues; J Hearsch & Co., Yoko Sizzlers, Candies, and Dynasty are mainstays of the community, where the wait is part of the dining experience. Still, over the years, Bandra’s lining and dining problem has gotten out of control. 

Today, orderly food queues are a common sight among Bandra’s XS eateries, where space is so limited, it doesn’t take much to spill outside. The crowd outside symbolises that the small establishment is part of the culinary checklist, and, in turn, makes these diners their unpaid human billboard. Every passerby is likely to wonder: Why are they waiting? How long have they been waiting? Is it really worth the wait? And most importantly, what is it that they know that I don’t?

My parents have queuing memories from the Mumbai floods of 2005, when neighbours would wait in line for a loaf of bread. But our generation isn’t so much about feeding as it’s about our feed. Standing in line at a most-shared, much-hyped new eatery doesn’t make us feel impatient or antsy—it makes us feel special.

I suspected that the social impulse to crowd together might be a post-COVID hangover. After a long period of isolation and lockdowns, congregating felt like a luxury. But a cursory glance at the line outside Boojee Café confirms the waiting crowd mostly comprised young diners, one who were united in discovering (and posting about) the next big thing.

In some ways, Boojee Café, where weekend wait time always hovers between 15 to 45 minutes, was the first culprit of this line-and-dine trend. In 2019, Boojee opened as a 15-seat venue at Perry Cross Road and has since expanded its menu and branched out to other locations. “I usually stand in line for 15 to 20 minutes… I don’t mind doing that for Boojee,” says Sanya Jotwani, creative director at almst and one of Boojee’s most loyal customers. “It has this sense of community that keeps bringing me back,” she rationalises.

Community seems to be a defining piece of Boojee’s ethos; their website even includes a community section spotlighting their super regulars. Even though I didn’t understand the hysteria of Boojee at first, the appeal is clear today: a menu that feels guiltless, the near certain guarantee of a run-in, but most of all, a third space. Jotwani frequents Boojee on random afternoons, after a workout, or even to celebrate her birthday. “They genuinely have amazing service and they just make you feel at home. I don’t think any other cafe has achieved that feeling yet,” says the 23-year-old.

If Boojee feels like home to Gen Z, Veronica’s is the perfect example of the club you were dying to get into. The sandwich shop opened in 2023 and has an average weekend wait time of around 40 minutes, although, there have been times where I went in at 1:30 pm, only to be told that their waitlist was full until dinner service.

Bandra may not have found a spot on the Coolest Neighbourhoods of the World list, but try telling that to regulars at Veronica’s, who seem to have really made waiting a fun people-watching experience. Andheri resident Shubham Chaudary routinely takes an hour-long cab to queue up outside Veronica’s. “Mumbai is a bustling city that can feel lonely at times,” shares the 27-year-old actor who moved to Mumbai last year. “Visiting these places and treating yourself to a coffee and good food occasionally is always nice—it helps you feel connected to the community,” he says of his favourite sandwich shop. 

Veronica’s punctuates its exclusivity with the impossible reservation at Papa’s upstairs. Even while Santa Maria is in the corner of your eye, a tempting alternative during the long wait, there is nothing as tempting as what you can’t have. And that’s where the appeal lies for the XS restaurants. These places tempt diners to come by withholding pickup or delivery options. They also don’t do bookings. For them, abandoning a reservation model reduces dependency on no-shows and latecomers, and allows passersby to impulsively show up and drive the traffic. Somehow, these lines scream to others not there yet: You have to come check it out!

At Bandra’s Pomodoro, a line forms every evening for a tangible reward at the end of the day: Dinner. Nishka Manghnani, a 21-year-old USC student, waited an hour for a 45-minute seating at this Bandra pasta and coffee bar. “Cafe and restaurant culture in Bombay is changing from longer, traditional sit-down meals to quicker, more casual experiences,” she observes about the in-and-out diner dash we see at hyped places. “They want people to be in and out as soon as possible. They don’t ask you if you want the check; they hand it to you while food is still on the table.”

For a city that prides itself in its always-running workhorse image, it’s strange to see a crowd of people simply standing. For the food-focussed, these lines convey a certain gravitas—the length (literally!) at which they will go for a good meal.

Even a downpour doesn’t deter the people queueing outside Benne Dosa’s OG outlet. On rainy weekends, those craving a buttery, flaky dosa come armed with umbrellas or rearrange themselves from the queue to take shelter under the awning of the bakery next door. On any given day, outside Benne Dosa in Pali Naka, you’ll see at least 35 people lined up—the wait is usually 45 minutes to an hour on weekends. It’s hardly the only dosa place in the suburb, but seeing people choosing to spend their day off in line somehow confirms it’s a meal that’s really worth the wait.

Some need more resolve to be part of the crowds. Parthiv Chhabria, assistant creative producer at Matchbox Shots, was peeved to see “some customers had their boyfriends or, more embarrassingly, their drivers, wait on behalf of them in the line.” He adds, “The queue etiquette was not up to par.” The 22-year-old is that rare example of someone who was less than charmed by the alluring social media presence Benne has cultivated since its opening last summer. He found his way there through “peer pressure and no will of my own”. He declares, “I would not go back unless I knew there wasn’t a line. The food is delicious, but I don’t want to be seen in public waiting in that line.”

Unlike the rest of us, Chhabria is put off by this phenomenon of walk-in-only dining: “It isn’t asking for much to sit and eat your dinner.” Funnily enough, he could have had the meal seated, with a shorter wait, in their larger Juhu branch—but then he couldn’t say he partook in the “real Benne Dosa” experience. 

Line culture is also a key feature at another Bandra menu that features a benne dosa. Fortunately, Blondie, where the average weekend wait clocks 40 minutes, is designed for it, with a turf-laden enclosed waiting area equipped with chairs and benches. “I waited for an hour, but they had these guys there to entertain you in line, playing trivia games and stuff!” says Imaane Patel, a Law student based in London, who made it a mission to go there on her Mumbai visit after hearing glowing reviews of their matcha.

Not every eatery commands a crowd. Queues can announce if a small culinary newcomer is kind of a big deal. Take Magnolia: the original West Village bakery was just 600 sq ft and helped define line culture, but its franchised Bandra branch spans two storeys, yet rarely fills to capacity. 

A couple of weeks ago, a new walk-in-only spot in Ranwar (of course) called Mr Misu, with a tiramisu inspired menu, joined the long list. If you’re inclined, my advice would be that you go there now before you start seeing it on your explore page.