In Avondale, culinary inspiration from the streets of Mumbai
Newly opened Bun & Bombay offers homestyle Indian classics, snacks, and outdoor seating.

Salman Khan remembers it clearly: being a kid in Mumbai and running off to buy bun maska and chai, one of the only snacks he could afford with his pocket money. The origins of this treat trace back to the Iranian cafes established in Mumbai in the 19th century by the city’s Parsis – Zoroastrians who had fled persecution. For Salman, it was a simple, everyday pleasure: “bread and salted butter, [and] we dip it with chai,” he recalled. He would “go out to play soccer on a Saturday morning on a local train, get off, and then that’s all money you have to buy bun maska.”
Bollywood fans: This isn’t that Salman Khan. It’s our own local Salman, who worked for several years as a sous chef at Chai Pani and is now the proud owner of Bun & Bombay, a new Indian cafe in Avondale Estates.
Open for a little over a week, the cafe—which has all outdoor seating in a wooden pavilion—is located beside the historic Waffle House in Avondale and next to another newcomer: Galore Market, a neighborhood grocery owned by Salman’s friends. “One of the owner’s brothers actually plays cricket with me,” Salman said. They told him they were launching a spot on East College Avenue and asked if he might be interested in opening something of his own. “I’m like, why not?” he said, his soft voice competing with the Bollywood music playing in the background.

Salman moved to the U.S. around eight years ago. He trained at a culinary school in Mumbai, and later in London, where he said he learned “only knife skills, to be honest,” and a bit about food. But most of his education has come from learning how food was cooked at home, or on the street. So it’s no surprise that the inspiration behind Bun & Bombay, Salman said, is simple: “street and home-cooked meals.”
The cafe’s menu includes, of course, homey South Asian classics like daal and rice, chicken biryani, and goat curry, with meat sourced from the nearby halal butcher Al Barakah. Dishes are prepared fresh, said Salman, and cooked with whole spices, onions, and tomatoes. (Salman said that Chai Pani is the only other Indian place in the area that he knows about that cooks food to order like this.) Salman is the head chef, but he’s joined in the kitchen by four ladies—home cooks, he said, whom he knows through friends and family, and who had been waiting for the opportunity to share their meals with customers.
Bun & Bombay also specializes in street-style fare: everything from a paneer tikka panini to a sandwich filled with hara bhara kebab (made with spinach and channa dal) to samosa chaat. Salman is especially proud of the samosas, which are “made by the samosa lady, who comes in the evening.”
We tried the daal and the goat curry—which, true to Salman’s word, tasted not unlike something my mom would make at home. We also tried the elote chaat: an experiment, Salman explained (and nothing like my mom would make). The standout was the chai, which is made by boiling down whole milk and then adding fresh ginger, cardamom, and loose-leaf tea, and pairs perfectly with the bun maska, a brioche-style bun slathered with Amul butter, an Indian brand with a distinct salty tangy taste.

The operation is relatively bare-bones at the moment, with a takeout counter at the front and food served in plastic or paper containers. The menu is short, but Salman hopes to develop it with time: “I have more ideas,” he said. And marketing has been limited; Salman doesn’t have any social media apps on his phone, he said, besides YouTube. His wife, Shabina, started the cafe’s Instagram account.
Instead, he seems to be getting the word out through acts of kindness: On Tuesday, he was providing free catering for teachers and staff at the Museum School, which his daughter attended. “It’s just my way of giving back,”
