If you’ve ever been someone who thought Indian sweets were all just sugar bombs with no personality—prepare for a polite but resounding slap of reality, in the most delicious way. Welcome to Bombay Sweet Shop—where laddoos get couture upgrades, mithai dons a bowtie, and childhood memories get a five-star reimagining.
But before we bite into the good stuff, a bit of origin masala.
The brains behind this flavourful fantasy? Sameer Seth and Yash Bhanage—two chaps who gave Mumbai the iconic Bombay Canteen back in 2015 and the delightfully Goan O Pedro in 2017. Not content with just tickling our savoury buds, they decided to stir the mithai pot and launched Bombay Sweet Shop in March 2020. And no, they didn’t just wake up and say “Let’s open a halwai.” The inspiration? A layover in Istanbul, where Sameer saw hordes queuing for baklava at the airport. The penny dropped: if Turkey could globalise its sweets, why couldn’t India?
They roped in culinary legend Floyd Cardoz (of NYC’s Tabla fame) to help shape the dream, and brought on board Girish Nayak, who once whipped up desserts at Olive. Thus was born the chicest mithai shop Mumbai had ever seen—set up in Byculla, with a vibe that’s equal parts old-school sweet shop and modern dessert lab.
And then came COVID.
As timing would have it, the shop opened just days before the pandemic put the world on pause. But instead of melting into the background, the team pivoted sharply. Out went the idea of a traditional store-first model; in came D2C e-commerce, festive hampers, and limited-edition boxes that could travel across India. Honestly, if Diwali had a flagship store, this would be it.
Now, onto the main course—or rather, the sweet and savoury joys that made me feel like a five-year-old in a gourmet candy store.
First up: the Pyaaz Kachori Kadhi Chaat. Sounds like a Jodhpur classic? Think again. This version swaps the usual kadhi for a velvety roasted pumpkin one that wraps around your tongue like a buttery hug. There’s goat cheese raita, kachumbar for crunch, and the pièce de résistance—flaky kachori that manages to be both rustic and refined. It’s like your grandma’s recipe went to culinary school and came back with a top knot and a side of sass.
Then came dessert—and this one was a straight-up show-stealer: Canteen’s Rasgulla Tiramisu. Imagine a soft, spongy rasgulla (yes, the syrup-soaked Bengali staple) dipped in espresso, layered with mascarpone, almond brittle, and finished off with salted caramel ice cream. You’d think it would be a mess. Instead, it’s a marriage of textures and temperatures—hot, cold, sweet, bitter, crunchy, creamy—all in one mischievous, magical mouthful. Whoever came up with this needs to be knighted. Or at least fed rasgullas for life.
The ambience? Pure edible nostalgia. From pastel hues and cheerful signage to the smell of caramel and cardamom wafting through the air, the whole place feels like a Wes Anderson film set in Chandni Chowk. The staff are warm, patient, and seem genuinely excited that you’re as excited as you are (which is a lot).
And yes, let’s talk money. Bombay Sweet Shop doesn’t exactly fall into the “Rs. 50 samosa” category. My indulgent escapade set me back around ₹800–₹1,000. But for what you get—premium ingredients, inventive pairings, beautiful presentation—it feels justified. This isn’t your local halwai. It’s the sweet shop you go to when you want to impress someone. Or just yourself. Because self-love can taste like rasgulla tiramisu if you do it right.
So, if you’re looking for a place that respects the past, flirts with the future, and hands you mithai in a designer box—Bombay Sweet Shop is your sweet haven.
And that’s today’s verdict. Sweet. Surprising. And absolutely worth the sugar crash later.
Verdicts of Vipul 