The bread behind the sandwich

The whiff of freshly-baked bread makes you a kinder person. That's what folks at the University of Southern Brittany in France found in their study, anyway. The finding, published in the Journal of Social Psychology in 2012, claimed that people are more likely to help those who drop their belongings if they pass by a bakery from which emanates the aroma of fresh bread.

Whether or not the kindness of strangers is at full force in D'Lima Street is best left to observation. But if the resident sandwichwala literally buttering his bread on both sides is anything to go by, generosity is no outsider here. For this quaint Mazgaon lane — a stone's throw from Dockyard Road station — is home to Wibs, the bread most city sandwichwalas swear by. All you need to do when you enter the lane is follow the (scent) trail leading to the headquarters of this 41-year-old, Mumbai-only institution.

Spearheading Wibs (short for Western India Baker's Association) is the Irani trio — Khodadad, Hoshang and Shehryar. And it's over cups of elaichi chai and plates of Honeybell, the in-house vanilla sponge cake, that the story of sliced bread unfolds.

"Sliced bread was called 'services bread' back then because it was popular with the armed forces. It was an English influence. Before that, Indians mostly had pav or poi," informs Khodadad. He adds that Aryan Bakery in Bhendi Bazaar (now defunct) was the first to sell sliced bread in Mumbai.

When Wibs burst onto the scene in 1973, it had two fierce competitors to contend with: Britannia and Modern. Then there was Bluebird Bakery near Kala Chowki, which supplied bread to mill workers.
"People (read: competition) used to make fun of us, but we didn't pay heed. We still don't," smiles Hoshang.

The Iranis' nonchalance is, perhaps, well founded. Go to any sandwich guy on the street and chances are you'll be greeted by Wibs' trademark blue, white and red packaging from behind the thela. After having wondered why this is so, an explanation is finally offered by one of Mumbai's best sandwichwalas.

"Brittania ka bread thoda kadak aur khatta hai (Britannia bread is a bit hard and sour)," says Ramesh Madhu Mhatre, owner of Lucky Sandwich outside Vile Parle station. Lucky, which has been around for 33 years, whips up the city's meanest chilli cheese and veg cheese toasts. "Wibs' bread is softer. And although I make brown bread sandwiches too, white bread tastes best," he says.

H. Paramesha's, opposite Bombay Stock Exchange, is another Mecca for sandwich lovers in the city. Founded by H. Paramesha Gowda in 1980, the eatery offers a whopping 72 varieties of sandwiches. And although Gowda doesn't use Wibs anymore ("Yazdani Bakery's bread is the best"), he has a tale to share. "Khodadad Irani was once a manager at Britannia before he headed Wibs," he chuckles. Lucky Restaurant in Bandra, one learns, was also a distributor of both, Britannia and Wibs bread back in the day.

Back in Mazgaon, Hoshang talks about the signature wax-coated paper that's synonymous with the brand. "The original design hasn't changed since Wibs' inception. Revamping the packaging doesn't help you penetrate the market. Maintaining product quality does. Wax paper is used for our 800g variant (the larger-sized sandwich bread) since it allows the bread to breathe. Polythene bags trap moisture faster, and that's harmful for the bread," he says.

But prod him and Khodadad about what makes Wibs special for Mumbai's sandwichwalas and they don't divulge much. "Ninety-eight percent is flour. The other ingredients are two percent," says Khodadad says with a straight face before joking, "You're not from the IT Department, are you?"

Although the Iranis maintain a modicum of secrecy — they even refuse to be photographed — they offer their two cents on what makes good bread. Most important, says Hoshang, is precision fermentation. "Overdo the fermentation even a bit, and your dough becomes khatta (sour). Under-ferment even a little, and your bread becomes flat or riddled with holes."

Wibs has four plants in the city, each designed to make specific kinds of bread. The output? Three thousand loaves an hour. Unlike others, stresses Khodadad, they don't make their white bread, wholemeal bread, sweet bread and buns in one place. The ovens for 400g and 800g breads are different. Ask him what time of day does bread making start, and pat comes the reply. "Bread making is like the railways. It never stops. We set aside only two days a year for maintenance work," says Khodadad.

Mumbai's most iconic bread may be billed the 'people's bread', but a lot of thought has gone into its making, claims Hoshang. "When a sandwichwala makes a sandwich, he puts butter, chutney, cucumber, tomatoes, beetroot, potato... the works. The bread should hold all this, and people eating the sandwich should be able to pick it up without the stuffing falling all over the place. Wibs is made keeping in mind how people treat their bread," he concludes.

And with that, the Iranis call for another round of elaichi chai and Honeybell cake.