Mumbai has no shortage of iconic sandwiches — Vada pav, and similar street food snacks like samosa-pav and dabeli, the eponymous, vegetable- stuffed Bombay sandwich, basic bun- maska and the newly trendy Kejriwal, which counts as an open sandwich. Omelet sandwiches can get overshadowed in all this. Yet they provide a tasty and more protein filled option, available outside most train stations across the city. There is an irresistible allure in the smell of frying onions, tomatoes and chillies, then the savoury surge as briefly beaten eggs are added, allowed to firm and folded and thrust into a torn open pav that has just been toasted in the remaining tava grease.
An omelet between bread is a basic combination made in many ways across the world. The USA has the Denver sandwich, a hearty omelet of ham, cheese and vegetables served in sourdough bread. The food writer James Beard thought it came from egg foo-yung, omelets with gravy made by Chinese laborers building American railroads. They put it in the bread of their new country to make it easier to hold and eat.
Omelet sandwiches are now popular through Asia for this easy-to-eat reason. Vietnam’s colonial French history has made omelets stuffed in baguettes a popular breakfast option. Koreans call it gaeran tost-u and add cabbage and carrots to the eggs, along with a dusting of brown sugar. Japanese tamagoyaki sandos also add sugar for addictive sweet-savouriness.
In Cameroon in Africa the omelettes are made extra hearty with spaghetti before being stuffed in bread. Spanish tortillas — which are omelettes, not the Mexican flatbreads — are fortified with fried potatoes and served in bread for a bocadillo. As with so many Spanish foods, this might derive from Spain’s seven century long domination by the Arabs, who make similar thick omelettes called eggahs.
But the real home of thick herb and vegetable laden omelets is Iran where they are called kukus and, in modern times, are also enjoyed in bread. And this may be one link to Mumbai’s omelet sandwiches, since the city’s Parsi-Irani community brought their love of eggs with them from Iran, particularly made into the thick spicy omelets called poras.
Mumbai could be where poras met pav. The bread was first made by Goan bakers, then by Irani bakers who would surely have used it for their much-loved egg dishes. The thin, quickly made masala omelet is the street-corner sister to the pora, served with sliced bread when the pav runs out.
There are other versions, like the triangles of toasted omelet sandwich served in clubs, and Xavier’s College had a much loved, if oddly named, Egg Burma Toast until the canteen contractor who made it retired recently. Bun omelets can be found in many food outlets, made in advance and stacked in glass cases along with cutlets and rolls. But nothing matches the hot, greasy, spicy delight of an omelet sandwich made in front of you out on the street with a cold wind blowing in the few weeks of what Mumbai calls winter.