At 23 years of age, chef Manu Chandra took the plane back home. After studying at the Culinary Institute of America and being a part of the opening team of the Mandarin Oriental in New York, his return would have been considered career hara-kiri for most. But Chandra was not new to being a self-saboteur. A few years ago, he had applied to only one college, St Stephen?s in Delhi, with the devious hope that he wouldn?t make it and be able to go to a culinary school instead despite family opposition. It didn?t work. He ended up majoring in history from St Stephen?s, although what got him in was an interview that was entirely about food.

But what Chandra hadn?t realised was that the plane ride home would be the easiest part of the journey. The Indian culinary scene was a long way from the buzzing food scene in which he had come of age as a chef.?Ten years ago, free-standing restaurants were still to develop their own identity and celebrity chefs were those who were able to get through to the Indian housewife and ease her workload. Five stars reigned supreme and dominated. Suppliers placed independent restaurants on the lowest priority level because their orders were limited unlike chain hotels. A young chef like Chandra was paid so little that he didn?t encash his paycheck for a year till his employers noticed. It wasn?t about attitude, he tells me, but about the value people placed on a chef and what he brought to a restaurant. He had enough savings from New York, so he lived on that. His employers later realised it and made amends. Everyone was learning at the same time and Chandra?s fortuitous meeting with AD Singh, the affable restaurateur and game-changer who is on his way to being remembered as one of the greats in the business, changed the course of his journey. Singh took a shine to him and his dress sense?something about a black trench coat and red shirt (they were dressed identically)?and so began an association that resulted in Monkey Bar, a gastro bar.

I am loath to turn up at a new restaurant, to use an unsavoury analogy. I wait for its presence to congeal, for the stories to filter through?the good and bad without the flash, PR-speak and spin. Monkey Bar has survived its ?fad moment? and is around to tell its tale. The first Monkey Bar opened in Bangalore in 2012 and introduced the concept of a gastro pub to the famous pub city that was in the grips of an onslaught of trendy lounge bars?a wave inimical to its intrinsic partying ethos. If Delhi is about the next trendy spot, Bangalore had till then stayed loyal to its local pub, early drinking hours and rock music. Suddenly, there were velvet ropes, reservations, no stag entries and bouncers: all things that went against what it means to have a ?night out? in this city of few pretentions. Chandra felt the time was ripe for revival. He sensed the fatigue and introduced a gastro pub, an experience that brought with it the best brew and food that could stake a claim on the tenets of gastronomy. It worked. But bringing it to Delhi that was entrenched in a certain style of doing things was the challenge. As I sit in the futuristic glass pyramid that is Monkey Bar, with its pub-like wood-feel interiors, I can tell it has worked. The pub crawlers are there, not looking to start their night here, but to stick around. A fashionably-dressed woman walks up and down, speaking on her smartphone. She stands out because of the formality of her attire, but Chandra is amused. Once she finds her seat, the box full of tissues that will be crumpled and discarded on the table will remind her of the messy and comfortable reality that is Monkey Bar. It?s a great leveller this place. Chandra still hasn?t introduced bouncers, and women, dressed however they please, come in despite there being no ladies? night. It is because Monkey Bar doesn?t rip you off. At an APC (average per cover) of R750, it is easy on the pocket. But why do women feel safe here? I ask Chandra. He says he doesn?t know. Muscle Marys, known to intimidate female revellers, do drop by, but after a quick round-robin of questions like ?Why do you not play commercial music??, etc, realise it?s not their scene and move on.

I spent a couple of years in Bangalore and this place is a nostalgia trip. But Chandra doesn?t let you forget that he is a chef. And that, despite its comfort, Monkey Bar is an ambitious reimagination of a global concept?make no mistake, this is an Indian gastro pub. So there is a keema bao that plays on the keema pao favourite?a soft bao bun stuffed with mince and served French-style with a dip in a ?monkey? bowl and a broth in a shot glass. At Monkey Bar, you eat pretty and drink hearty. And even if, at the end of the night, your table is a mess of crumpled tissues, you know you have been served.

Advaita Kala is a writer, most recently of the film Kahaani. She is also a former hotelier having worked in restaurants in

India and abroad