A D Singh's Olive Bar is the mother of all page three haunts. It has successfully spread across the country now. I had been there eons back when we could hardly afford it. I never went to Olive after that. Its neighbour, Out of The Blue , was a big favourite of mine. And remains so.
I suddenly thought of Olive the night we got Princess Leia, our new new car, home. We wanted to go to a place which would match up with the special occasion.
Olive didn't disappoint us on that count. The place was buzzing on a Tuesday night. There were two large groups including what seemed like a corporate do. The place was full and we had to sit at the bar. Olive was alive. Yet we were some of the youngest folks around! It seemed like an old boys club where most knew each other. The rest were office groups attacking their plates with serious grit and determination.
The music was what is called House Music I think. What I really liked was that we could comfortably speak despite being close to the speakers. They obviously didn't believe in drowning you with decibels at Olive. A rare delight in the world of lounges.
The ambience was nice, light and Mediterranean... white walls, touches of blue, candle lights and lamps. An outdoor section which looked appealing in the cool night and a cosy looking inner section bathed in soft, yellow light.
They made my favoured cocktail of Long Island Ice tea pretty well. The bar was well stocked. The bar man quick and efficient. I decided to follow my 460 Rs ( USD) drink with a cheaper vanilla Smirnoff (Rs 160/ 3 USD for a small measure) for economic reasons.
The food service sucked.
We were shunted from bar guys in black shirts, to stewards in striped shirts to waiters in floral shirts when I wanted to know more about items on the menu. No one could answer my questions which were very basic.
'Salumi Frommage Platter?' Replied with a Mithunda like 'pork hain' (got pork). Mezze Platter? 'Seafood hain' (has sea food).
There was a consistent pattern that followed each of my questions on the menu. The person would go and get someone else who would go and get someone else who would go and get someone else and who would .... The fifth or sixth person would then give the 'Me Tarzan. You Jane' words of wisdom which I just recounted.
See the pictures below and tell me if you can spot the difference between our two starters.
Olive served out purpose that evening. We felt special. Life seemed beautiful. My compliments to the interior decorator.