We’ve heard of the bar within a bar, but Lisa’s Lanka in Mumbai is not the same. A restaurant in a restaurant, it sprung from a hugely successful pop-up that ran just two months ago. Chef Lisa Sadanah (Goa folks know her from BentotaBox and the now-shuttered Jaffna Jump) had a 13-day residency at Kishore DF’s The Penang Table at the end of February. It was a massive hit. Fresh off her crowd-puller, she went back to Goa for some downtime and to hang with her family, but within days of leaving she got a call from Kishore asking if she was done with her break. He wanted to make Lisa’s Lanka permanent.
Now five days old, Lisa’s Lanka is carved out of the front section of The Penang Table. A panelled glass wall divides the room into two restaurants, with the bar extending on both sides. On Lisa’s side, the walls are drenched in inky cobalt. Large, moody, theatrical sunflowers are painted above salon-style collage walls featuring mismatched frames, vintage prints, Ceylon posters, and old shutters. Long, striped banquettes run along the side, and closely set tables are arranged with rattan-backed chairs. It’s hard to believe this room took shape in just a few weeks.
Equally hard to believe is that this restaurant is perhaps Mumbai’s first real Sri Lankan bistro-bar (barring Hoppumm, the hole-in-the-wall eatery in Bandra), and Sadanah’s not pulling any punches here. “Bandra wants cool but won’t commit, so the menu had to be sexy, fast, and familiar enough to flirt but bold enough to keep them coming back,” says the chef who has lived in Sri Lanka for two decades, and was Goa-based until recently. “Sri Lanka is a full-blown flavour riot, so I picked dishes that slap with memory and make sense on a Mumbai table. There are no museum pieces, only what I’d proudly feed you at home.”
This translates to bone marrow that’s smoky and slick, blanketed with varuval, scooped up with a parotta that falls apart as you break off pieces. Or red roast masala karruppu jackfruit in a charcoal-black appam that would even sate a mutton lover. Sadanah’s devilled prawns are hot, tangy, and only slightly sticky—better than any of the diluted sugary, doughy versions we’ve had on our last visit to Sri Lanka. Over the coming days, she says she will only adapt dishes for portioning and format in Mumbai but not flavour. “I’ll wrap it in a hopper or roll if it helps you get hooked faster, no shame,” she says. “But I won’t dilute spice, sour, or funk. If [a dish] scares you a little, I’m doing it right.”
After our avalanche of big, bold, bright flavours, it’s a joy to be soothed by Clams Colombo. The shellfish comes in a comforting pool of coconut milk, lemongrass, and rampe (Sri Lankan for buttery, savoury pandan). You will want to mop up every last drop of that gravy. The kadala hummus with sesame, shallot, and pepper masala and well-fermented crispy dosa shards from the pop-up was a delight, so it’s really good to have it available full-time now. At the bar, Pranav Modi is mixing up cocktails like mojitos and sours that riff on coconut, pandan, curry leaf, and citrus, with Ceylon arrack holding it all together.
