Iam not interested in eating anything that I can cook, I proclaimed on arriving in Mumbai last December. That mini food fatwah led to re-discovering life and food on the streets of Mumbai, accompanied by copious amounts of anti-diarrhoea medicine.

I was born and lived in Mumbai till I was 22 years of age. After a brief sojourn in Pune and Karachi I found myself in Toronto; though home to many Indian-Pakistani restaurants, none come close in taste and rigour to Mumbai street food.

Serving a population of close to 18 million, half of them living in slums or on the street, food vendors make a killing offering a variety of sumptuous meals for sometimes as little as Rs.10 for a pair of vada-paus (spicy fried potato ball generously laced with dry chutney powder tucked between layers of freshly baked soft bread). Masala dosas, ragda-pattice, pau bhaaji, dahi-vadas, bhel-poori, patras, tomato and cucumber, beetroot chutney sandwiches with pumpkin sauce and ganna (sugarcane) juice was where I wanted to make my killing.

An old school friend suggested we eat this exact same fare at an upscale restaurant, trying her best to steer herself and me away from the non-mineral water chutneys used indiscriminately to spice up the bhel-poori, or the non-pasteurised milk and whatever else that goes into bulking up the yoghurt in the dahi-vadas. To humour her we trotted off to one where for Rs700 per person we indulged in a gastronomic eating session that did nothing much to satiate my inner cravings for street food!

Exasperated she suggested if we must eat street food we should restrict ourselves to hot vegetarian food. That meant no chutneys to be dribbled over the bhel poori, no yoghurt over dahi–vadas and absolutely no coconut condiment on our masala dosas. Sambhar (pumpkin and lentil mixture that accompanies the dosas) was allowed as that was piping hot. Heat, she said, kills germs before they enter your body and umm…kill you!

Nobody I know has died of street food in Mumbai. I protest, but to no avail. Either I agree to these conditions or the plan falls apart.

Finding a volunteer to share in my delights was tough, so before she backed out I quickly nodded in agreement to all her suggestions and we started our trek to Bandra’s famous shopping, eating and doing-everything-strip — the iconic Linking Road.

Half way down the street, in between dodging cars, autos, buses, broken pavements and dogs I noticed that among the crowds tucking in at the various food stall, not many belonged to my generation. I saw teens on dates gulping down pani-poori with relish and street urchins ordering their nightly ‘usuals’ and scampering off to eat with their pals. The older demographic was not a regular at street vendors when I was growing up, but where had the middle generation gone? I asked my friend, who sometimes seemed embarrassed to be there, but came along nevertheless to humour me.

She not-so-gently reminded me that the Chinese food cart or the masala dosa tava which we used to patronise as young college students back in the 1980s, always catered to students and the labour class. As we moved up the socio-economic ladder we glided away from street food and into posh restaurants. “Standing by the road and gulping down food the way you are doing is frowned upon,” she chided me gently.

That was when I had my grown-up moment. I was no more a student. I had doubled in age and had moved up the socio-economic ladder. Except that this transition did not happen in Mumbai. In my mind, I just wanted to pick up from where I had left. I wanted to recreate all the events I indulged in when I lived there. But that was 22 years ago. It was not going to happen in 2013.

After taking in some steaming hakaah stir-fry from the Chinese cart, tucking into a masala dosa with no chutney and washing it down with chilled Limca, we trotted back to the Bandra West railway station to catch the Churchgate Fast train back home.

My Mumbai street food saga, it seems, was over for now and maybe forever.

The Karachi street food top five

Not planning to travel to Mumbai anytime soon; no problem. You can sample some of the world’s best street food right here, right now.

Kebab rolls: Hot and Spicy offers 72 varieties but all you really need is a crisp paratha stuffed with succulent chicken or beef boti, topped with chutney and onions for the perfect lunch-on-the-go.

Bun kebab: Unfortunately being fast edged out by the insipid burger, the authentic bun kebab is luckily still available at Nursery and Pakistan Chowk.

Kachori: The only good thing about a visit to the passport office is a chance to indulge is the most delicious kachoris in town; what’s more, the potato curry is provided absolutely free.

Haleem: No more just a Muharram speciality, haleem is now available at food stalls round the year.

Chaat: From the hustle and bustle of downtown Bohri Bazaar to the posh elegance of Clifton; chaat is for everyone.