Yes, I know, the question would invariably be WHY? To cut a very long story
short, my father was being operated at Hinduja’s, my mum would spend the night
at the hospital with him, and I, the homeless waif, needed to make myself
scarce as Hinduja’s didn’t endorse third wheels.
All that being said, it was a phase of much learning. My
experiences in Bombay were always limited to ‘town’ or South Bombay, which I
love to this day. Being in Mahim for this long, always on call was somewhat of
a new experience; and an enjoyable one at that. I discovered the joy of
steaming-hot Kheema accompanied by a loaf of bread that rivalled its
counterpart’s temperature, from Crown Bakery at 6:30 am. I discovered the joy
of purchasing bound and battered editions of Archie comics at a meagre Rs 20
per copy from Victoria Library. Most importantly, it was during this period
that on the singular step that led to the aforementioned library, I discovered
my love for the ‘Frankie’.
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I have always been intrigued by food, and for me a strange
looking wrap in the hands of an even stranger looking pedestrian is, but
naturally going to pique the interest. Looking at me with as much curiosity as
I glanced at him with, he told me where he procured what he was eating. I
proceeded to trot off in said direction, and saw a dingy looking stall in the
distance, from where I purchased my first-ever Frankie. To this day I could swear
that I’ve heard choirs of angels sing and a tractor beam of light descend upon
it as I approached. A long lost cousin of the kathi roll, the Frankie is
infinitely better. And the inventors of the Frankie, the Tibb family want to
ensure that that philosophy is maintained. One of their many slogans very
bluntly states, ‘Everything rolled in a naan and roti is not a Frankie’. Unable
to decide whether I wanted to try the mutton or chicken variant, I promptly
went on to order one of each, and the mutton was infinitely better (please note
that I’m highly allergic to mutton, but to this day, stand by my point of view
that it was completely worth it).
Much later, I began doing a little digging and discovered
that a member of the Tibb family was inspired by something that he ate in
Lebanon and in turn went through the process of laborious testing his idea of
an Indianised version of what he referred to as mutton roll and naan, using
friends and family as guinea pigs…oh to be a guinea pig at that juncture… with
all the positive feedback that the family received, they ventured into their
first Frankie outlet in Powai, Mumbai, in 1969. However, it was the ‘townie’ capital
of Colaba, the second venue that the Tibb family ventured into, that propelled
the modern day Frankie to new heights. Rumour has it that as far as the
etymology goes, the name was the brainchild of Amarjit Tibb who christened it
in honour of West Indian cricketer Frank Worrell, later registering the name as
a trademark of Tibb’s.
Fast forward to 2015, and it turns out that Goa has managed
to get its hands on their very own Tibbs outlet. Situated at the food court at
Caculo Mall, this one is far more clinical than the gritty, roadside,
charismatic stall that I once ate at. The flavours, however, stay the same as
the first time I ever partook of them. Now Goa’s stall has no mutton variant,
and to be fair, it has been a while since I’ve eaten a Tibbs Frankie in one of
the metropolitan cities, so I’m uncertain whether they are even on the menu 14
years later. However, the chicken is still great and I personally love it.
Tibbs is the real deal. It’s worth heading down to the mall and doing as
another old slogan of theirs states, ‘No wrap shap, no hanky panky. Eat the
original Tibb’s Frankie’.
