Chef Manish Mehrotra's Comorin makes little noise and a big splash

Comorin's dessert menu is filled with sugar and nostalgia. Even the Indian Accent signature Doda Treacle Tart has travelled all the way to Gurugram

A t 2 pm on a Wednesday, the eight-day-old Comorin at Gurugram's Two Horizon Centre is nearly packed, while its popular next-door neighbour, Whiskey Samba, is nearly empty. By dusk, the balance of power will have shifted. The air will smell like a confection of exotic perfumes and the dimly lit bars that line the first floor in a semi-circle will come alive with throbbing music. That leaves a large open space in the middle that fills with people in the evening as corporate offices empty out. 

One would assume Indian Accent’s celebrity chef Manish Mehrotra’s first casual dining venture, Comorin, is eyeing a big bite of the same pie — those corporate high-flyers just waiting to let their hair down and loosen their purse strings.

It certainly seemed like it, when I walked up to Comorin’s reservation desk. The restaurant, like its neighbours, has an outside seating with a glass wall separating it from the indoors. I thought the name, the location, an experienced staff and a full bar should be enough to attract the corporate well-heeled.

But I started reviewing my assumption as soon as I was seated. Comorin follows a shop-in-shop concept. It’s a restaurant, bar, café and concept store that sells many things from probiotic syrups and Kombucha (fermented tea) to bar tools and kitchenware.

The rectangular area inside is utilised to potential. A coffee bar is to the left of the entrance, a central row of seating is in the middle with tables spread around it, and an “exploded bar” — the main bar area supported by two other tables — is to the right. Russel Sage Studio, a London-based design firm, has given bulky couches and wide booths a pass. Instead, high chairs done in pink and blue are paired with tables for two, four or even ten.

It’s hard to make the Indian Accent connection until you look at the desserts. But I’ll get to those after the main course. For starters, I settled for what my server, Aashish, recommended: Gunpowder Idli and Chicken Wings.

Comorin, named after Cape Comorin in Tamil Nadu, has a limited, speciality menu. While the name suggests deep south leanings, the menu is really a modern take on dishes from different states of the country. 

The idli was phenomenal. It was a standard composition of mini idlis served with coconut, mint and tomato chutneys and, even though plated simply over a thin strip of banana leaf, it stood out. I can’t say the same for the chicken wings coated in jaggery reduction. The menu is noticeably generous to vegetarians. Exactly half the 20 small plates and four of the 12 large plates are vegetarian.

On insistent recommendation, I reluctantly ordered the Malai Paneer Rara. It came with crumbled parathas and was worth the gamble. Mehrotra always gets his North Indian right.

I also tried the Bekti Paturi — Indian snapper in Bengali khichdi with plastic (papaya, to non-Bengalis) chutney. The fish was perfectly cooked and the flavourful khichdi had overtones of fresh mustard. I also loved the fact that they use large coasters instead of boring table mats as settings for the plates.

While Comorin does have a menu of speciality cocktails, it avoids pairing food with them. Even the bar nibbles are given a miss. I tried the Pickled Pom Whisky and enjoyed the dominant flavours of chilli and ginger. It tasted like the alcoholic cure for a hangover. On the flipside, I preferred watching the bartender make their signature Sou Vide Gin and Rose over actually drinking it.

Comorin’s dessert menu is filled with sugar and nostalgia. It’s got things like Cheeni Malai Toast and Nolen Gurer Payesh. Even the Indian Accent signature Doda Treacle Tart has travelled all the way to Gurugram. And it’s mind-boggling as always.

Comorin is not a run-of-the-mill chic bar trying to cater to an exclusive patronage. It’s a place you can bring your laptop to and work while sipping Blue Tokai coffee or chamomile tea (both priced around Rs 200), or grab a bite at lunch (small plates start at Rs 225). Return another day to enjoy dinner (large plates start at Rs 400) with cocktails and conversations while jazz plays unobtrusively in the background. It’s affordable, approachable and chic.