Getting a dinner reservation has never been harder. At Papa’s, it’s almost impossible

On the first of every month, at precisely 11 am, a certain subsection of Mumbai’s elite pull out their MacBooks for the Hunger Games of hospitality.

The prize? A seat at a 650-sqft restaurant tucked above a sandwich shop in a dodgy Bandra bylane, serving exactly 12 people a night. A restaurant so maddeningly elusive it’s made grown men cry and their wives lie. It’s called Papa’s. 

These days, it feels easier to get tickets to a Taylor Swift concert or score a quota Mini Kelly at Hermès than getting a table at your favourite restaurant. And just last month, Time magazine made it even harder by putting Papa’s on their 2025 World’s Greatest Places list.

The Bandra eatery is the brainchild of Hunger Inc Hospitality, the team behind The Bombay Canteen and O Pedro, steered by chef Hussain Shahzad. Conceived as a tribute to their late partner, Floyd Cardoz (who they called Papa ji), it has ignited a wildfire of hype since it opened a year ago.

My first visit was in February last year, days before it officially opened. And I’ll admit I completely underestimated what a culinary juggernaut this tiny place would become. Today, acquaintances presume I hold a golden key to Papa’s, probably because I’ve visited seven times in the past year. Well, one was technically for a party, but who’s counting? (Clearly, me.) During my latest visit, chef Hussain let it slip that no one has eaten there more often than that. I can’t tell if he said it with admiration or concern.

Every week, I get at least one desperate plea: “Bro, can you swing a Papa’s reservation?” Usually, it’s from people who mistake sharing a WhatsApp group for genuine friendship. Then there are the Instagram DMs: “Next time, take me along.” Or the emotional blackmail: “It’s my parents’ 40th anniversary and I’ve promised them Papa’s.” Someone even messaged saying, “My brother is planning to propose to his girlfriend there. Help!”

If you think I have it tough, spare a thought for those poor souls who actually run the place. Industrialists now casually brag they know one of the “partner’s wife’s parents” and can “make it happen”. International pop stars touring Mumbai have skipped rehearsals, pressuring their handlers to beg for last-minute seats, sometimes even offering cash to diners willing to surrender theirs. And in true Mumbai style, Papa’s has endured calls from shady fixers threatening municipal “action” if a reservation isn’t provided. All true stories.

So, how exactly does one get a seat at Papa’s? 

It’s deceptively simple in theory, but frustratingly unforgiving in practice. On the first of every month, at 11am sharp, reservations for the following month go live on papasbombay.com. That’s your only window. Blink and you’ll miss it—seats disappear in under 60 seconds. Pick your date (Fridays and Saturdays go first), choose the number of guests (up to six per transaction, though it’s far easier to snag seats for two), pay an advance of ₹6,000 per head (which goes toward your final bill), and if the stars align, you’ll receive a WhatsApp confirmation. If not, go to step 1 and do it all over again.

There’s no waiting list, no VIP hotline, and absolutely no walk-ins. Some guests set alarms from 10 am. Others refresh multiple browser tabs. And then there are the desperate ones: I know someone who offered the manager a bottle of Sassicaia, a Super Tuscan wine, to score six seats (it didn’t work). But if you’re really determined (and rich), there’s always the full buyout option. Papa’s will let you take over the place for a premium. It’s expensive (a six-figure billing, we have heard), but at least you’ll know everyone at dinner. 

But what is it about the restaurant that makes perfectly rational adults behave like obsessive Swifties?

The food? Undoubtedly. Inventive, cheeky and borderline provocative. Rabbit, ants, tuna samosas, watermelon rasam, foie gras ladoos, a dry-aged duck biryani-paella hybrid, and char siu pork modaks. These are dishes that sound like culinary pranks until you taste them.

The service? Quite possibly. Part maître d’, part magician, Madhu, who manages the front of house is disturbingly cool. Occasionally, mid-dinner, he’ll pull out a deck of cards and perform tricks. Once, he even produced a guest’s credit card from behind their ear. The tip, presumably, was not discretionary.

The cocktails? Absolutely. Harish, the bartender, might be India’s best-kept boozy secret, mixing concoctions that taste like pepperoni pizza or tom yum soup; there's even an ocean-inspired cocktail involving clams. The fun isn’t just inside the glass—their Bloody Mary comes with miniature pizza boxes.

Or just the thrill of getting a coveted reservation? We cannot deny their always-sold-out system of scarcity has made getting a reservation here a competitive sport. Twelve seats, four nights a week. It’s almost impossible to snag a seat at Papa’s. That’s just 192 diners a month, roughly the number of Gen Zs that Veronica’s, the sandwich shop downstairs, serves on a single Sunday morning. But numbers alone don’t capture Papa’s allure.

Papa’s isn’t merely just food and fun; it’s a moment, a cultural flex, proof that India has finally joined the global game of impossible reservations. In Tokyo, people plan vacations around an omakase seat at Jiro. In Copenhagen, Noma bookings go in milliseconds. In Bilbao, Asador Etxebarri famously ignores all calls and emails. And now, Mumbai has Papa’s, our own gastronomic badge of honour.

But besides confirming your social clout or offering you bragging rights, what truly sets this tiny eatery apart is the intimacy. It’s counter dining at its most immersive. You’re inches from the action. The chef talks, sears, assembles and narrates. It’s part meal, part theatre. The sizzle, the stories, the chaos—it all unfolds in real time. On a recent visit, chef Hussain kicked off a dinner service with “Make some noise. You need to be loud enough to make the people downstairs jealous”. His 12 diners immediately obliged, perfectly capturing Papa’s ethos: exclusive, irreverent and slightly mischievous.

Chef Gaggan Anand pioneered this genre a decade ago with his 14-seat counter in Bangkok, playfully called “G’s Spot”. There, satire, a Pink Floyd playlist, storytelling and culinary audacity combined seamlessly with his signature wit. Papa’s borrows a little from that blueprint and cleverly packages it for Mumbai.

And that’s what it serves best—not just exceptional food, but the intoxicating taste of exclusivity and triumph. For one night, you belong to something rare, envied and desired. You leave not just satisfied, but victorious.

Just remember: May 1. 11am sharp. May the fastest fingers win.