Bhagyalakshmi Gohokar embarked on a new venture in 2022 when she co-founded Santosham at the age of 68. Now, at 71, she oversees a flourishing South Indian restaurant chain in Thane and Mumbai. Although running a restaurant was not initially part of her life’s blueprint, it seems that the idea had been simmering beneath the surface for years.
We visited her quick-service location in Manpada, Thane, which opened its doors in 2022. The menu features a variety of traditional South Indian dishes, including dosas, uttapam, idli, vada, and thalis, complemented by the renowned Mysore Pak imported from Mysore. However, the standout attraction at the dine-in restaurants is the elaborate banana-leaf meal, which offers 21 items with unlimited servings for just Rs 499. On weekends, this transforms into a lavish sadya featuring over 30 dishes, such as olan, a gentle Kerala stew made with red pumpkin in coconut milk, and kalan, a thick, tangy yam curry prepared with yogurt.
Since its inception, Santosham has expanded to include two additional quick-service outlets in Thane, a dine-in restaurant in Powai, and a location at Marine Drive. Future plans involve launching an outlet in Malad, designed by architect Minnie Bhatt, along with another establishment in Thane set to open in November.
Reflecting on her journey, Bhagyalakshmi traces her culinary roots back to the late 1950s. “In 1958, my father relocated to Nagpur and opened Shanti Bhavan,” she recounted. This restaurant catered to South Indian bachelors who had come to work in new government offices, many of whom hailed from Kerala. “I was the youngest of six and my father’s favorite, so I would often accompany him. I vividly remember the sight of dosas being prepared over wood and coal fires, and women manually grinding batter all day. The aroma and the vibrant atmosphere became my cherished food memories,” she recalled during our conversation in her Thane home.
Her deeper culinary influence stemmed from her mother, Parvathy, who, despite having had a challenging life—married at 14, limited education, and hearing impairment—was meticulous in the kitchen. She emphasized uniform vegetable cutting for even cooking and insisted that coconut be grated perfectly, resembling a flower without any brown flecks.
Initially, Bhagyalakshmi had different aspirations. After completing her schooling, she aimed to study music in Chennai but was denied admission due to her age. Her mother encouraged her to pursue a Bachelor of Science in Home Science at Nagpur University, where she eventually met her husband and married shortly thereafter.
Her husband came from a prominent family, with her father-in-law having chaired the Maharashtra Public Service Commission and later serving as vice-chancellor of Nagpur University. Bhagyalakshmi managed the administration of her husband’s factory in Satara, which manufactured nickel mesh for the sugar industry—one of only three such facilities in India, catering to national needs and even exporting.
Tragedy struck when she became a widow at 42 in 1997, leaving her to raise her school-aged children alone. She continued to run the factory until rising nickel prices and a sugarcane disease forced its closure.
During those years, Bhagyalakshmi’s mother frequently stayed with her, cooking and quickly jotting down her recipes along with valuable tips in Tamil—a language she had learned herself. These handwritten notes contain recipes for payasams and sambar podi, which Bhagyalakshmi still uses today. “I have immense faith in those recipes,” she said, noting that they have been passed down through generations, making them over a century old.
By 2014-15, the family had settled in Mumbai, and with her sons busy with their own lives, Bhagyalakshmi felt inspired to revisit her culinary interests. Encouraged by her daughter-in-law Sweta, who is also a co-founder and director at Santosham, she launched Bhagyalakshmi’s Kitchen from her home, initially selling food through a WhatsApp group in their residential complex. Although she strictly adheres to vegetarian cooking, she has mastered the art of preparing meat dishes by smell alone, creating a diverse menu. Nonetheless, her true passion lies in crafting the sadya, a traditional Kerala feast that she had difficulty finding in Mumbai.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, when family support was limited, she took charge of cooking while Chittaranjan managed packing. This kitchen venture generated a monthly income of at least Rs 2 lakh, providing crucial financial support during tough times. The pandemic had also led to the closure of Chittaranjan’s previous business, GrubShub, a pasta-and-waffle venture, prompting him to focus on his mother’s culinary expertise. He secured initial funding and leased a central kitchen before launching their first outlet.
Bhagyalakshmi employed chefs skilled in various dosa preparations, including innovative flavors like cheese and schezwan. However, she retrained them according to her traditional methods. Today, Santosham boasts an expansive 8,000 sq ft kitchen equipped with an air-conditioned room for natural fermentation of batters, avoiding the use of soda, additives, or preservatives. Each dosa is made with ghee, honoring her mother’s traditional cooking practices.
Santosham, which translates to “contentment,” presents the culinary delights of Tamil Iyers raised in Kerala, offering a unique alternative to the familiar Udupi-style South Indian restaurants that have long dominated Mumbai’s dining scene. The menu also features temple prasad reminiscent of Bhagyalakshmi’s childhood summers in Kerala, including tamarind rice and ven pongal.
Staff members are trained to know the proper names of all dishes and, with diners’ consent, demonstrate how to enjoy them—whether that involves mixing curry leaf podi with rice and ghee or crumbling a papadam into payasam.
The coffee served comes from Mysore Concerns in Matunga, a historical establishment that once provided free meals to South Indian migrants until they found work, including Bhagyalakshmi’s father, making it a poignant full-circle moment.
“Our older patrons, many of whom are from Kerala, often express that they haven’t tasted food like this in years. One woman even cried at the counter, sharing that it reminded her of her late mother’s cooking,” Chittaranjan shared.
Bhagyalakshmi concluded, “My only sincere effort is to reconnect people with their roots, nothing more, nothing less.”
Heena Khandelwal is a Special Correspondent for The Indian Express in Mumbai, where she explores a variety of topics ranging from relationships and gender issues to theater and cuisine. For inquiries, she can be reached at heena.khandelwal@expressindia.com.
