This Dutch Mumbaiwallah loves dosas

He co-owns one of the city's hippest nightspots, has appeared in an ad film and is probably one of the most well-known expatriates to have made Mumbai their home. He is also credited for having redefined the way Mumbai parties and dines out, no mean achievement for the mere five years that he has been around.

Matan Schabracq, the Amsterdam boy now living and working in suburban Mumbai (Bandra), hardly needs an introduction to the clued-in Mumbaikar. He landed in the city in March, 2004, not as a tourist, but on a business trip. "I was offered a job as a consultant to set up a restaurant/ bar/ club in Bandra, Mumbai. It came at a time when I was craving for a new adventure in my life. Before this, I studied hotel management and worked in Amsterdam, New York and Tel Aviv."

While the trip was necessitated by a business deal, Matan says, he had a "high need for pleasure and inspiration." Predictably, the first impression of the city was overwhelming. Recalls Matan, "The moment the doors of the airplane opened up, a terrible smell pushed itself through the pressured cabin. The way from the airport to the hotel was an unforgettable one. No car stayed in its lane, non-stop honking and the amount of people that walk the streets at night was unbelievable. I asked myself -- how the hell was I going to live here?"

The rarefied environs of his five-star hotel came as a relief. The air-conditioning, the continental food, the "polished marble and soap in the bathroom" all came as a much-needed respite from the assault on his senses that was Mumbai. "It was my pirate's nest," he laughs. A month later, Matan moved in to his own apartment in Bandra, which he now shares with a friend. "It is nice to come back to your own crib," he smiles.

Matan co-partnered Zenzi, which introduced partygoers in the city to a "successful upmarket place which is at the same time extremely informal and chilled-out." The entrepreneur points out, "Before Zenzi opened, it was not done to wear flip-flops and shorts to a restaurant -- even in this heat. I think Zenzi has changed that."

While Matan cut his teeth with Zenzi, today he has the Bagel Shop, reportedly India's first bagel place, and Zenzi Mills (in Lower Parel, central Mumbai), which recently opened to good reviews.

It seems Matan has earned his stripes -- he travels frequently by autorickshaw, swears by his dosa lunches, eats bhel puri off the street vendors, and dives into his gulab jamun desserts three times a week -- like any other Mumbaikar. "I love Bandra for its village atmosphere, where everyone knows every one else, everything is close by, and you can go out for walks by the promenade every evening." He also recently succumbed to the idea of having domestic help for his chores -- a luxury he could not even think of in the West.

Setting up a successful business and expanding it has not really been a cakewalk for Matan. The city is notorious for its prohibitive laws and taxes. "The high rentals and 'unpractical' regulations are not motivating if you want to do something original. That's probably the reason restaurateurs are scared to take risks and that's probably why lots of them fail. But in general I think that if you create a good product (in any business) there is no reason to be unsuccessful."

But he adds: "They (my partners) gave me a carte blanche. We hired some creative, like-minded people who came with a big network of cool friends. And at the end of the day, it is the people that make the place. It's your inner-circle loyal guests that you need to pamper," comes his astute observation.

There have been some sacrifices however, and Matan does not seem too happy about having sent his dog back home. "This is not a dog-friendly city," he rues.

His bond with Mumbai and with India was strengthened by his long trips to various parts of the country. "If you live in Bombay, you need to do that at least every three months, otherwise you lose the plot," he argues.

Matan has also witnessed the great floods, the terrors attacks which united the people of the city and the nation in grief and concern. "I lived in New York on 9/11 and I lived in Israel when the Intifada started. Somehow you have to accept these things and live your way around it. After the 26/11 attacks, there was so much affection from friends and their families, I have never felt that much love and appreciation anywhere in the world."

Even as he flits between his home in Amsterdam and his home in Mumbai (which he calls an 'organised mess') Matan can feel India gain a stronger hold on his personality. He jokes, "I have picked up many words in Hindi, even a few cuss words. Besides that I learnt a few words in Tulu -- my girlfriend is from Karnataka. I understand the context of a conversation in Hindi, but speaking is tough." What's interesting is every time he goes back to the sanitised life of his country, the clean roads, the silent cars and the ordered life, he finds it "Utopian" to the point of being "almost boring!"

Five years in the Maximum City and Matan Schabracq says he feels more "Indian than Dutch".