What People Drink in Mumbai: 6 Traditional Beverages

Mumbai sits on India’s Konkan coast, where humid summers, sea breezes, and a long monsoon shape what people reach for in a glass. As a port city and migration hub, it blends Koli fishing traditions, East Indian Catholic customs, and strong Goan influence.

The result is a spectrum of drinks—from fresh palm-sap fermentations to aromatic cashew and forest-flower distillates—served in permit rooms, seafood joints, and homes. Many are designed to refresh in the heat, mark community rituals, or celebrate seasonal harvests.

Taadi is Mumbai’s coastal staple: a naturally fermented wine made from sap of the coconut (Cocos nucifera) or date palm (Phoenix sylvestris). Tappers slice the unopened spadix at dawn and collect sweet sap in covered pots. Ambient yeasts begin fermenting within hours, so the liquid turns from mildly sweet to tangy and effervescent as the day warms. Fresh toddy usually ranges from about 4% to 8% ABV, with aromas of coconut flesh, banana, and a faint lactic twang. Because it sours quickly, it’s best consumed the same day.

Historically poured in toddy houses near fishing hamlets, taadi has long refreshed Koli fisherfolk after early morning auctions and fieldwork. It pairs naturally with salty, fried seafood and pickled Bombay duck. Today, stricter tapping and licensing mean availability is more limited, but you can still encounter legal pours on the city’s fringes and in some traditional eateries. Locals often drink it before noon, when the flavor is gentlest and the carbonation soft, capturing Mumbai’s maritime terroir in its most fleeting form.

Feni—protected with a Geographical Indication (GI) for Goa since 2009—travels well to Mumbai’s shelves and bar programs. It’s distilled from fermented cashew apple juice (or, less commonly, coconut toddy) in copper pot stills called bhann. Traditional bhaticars often double- or triple-distill to concentrate character and lift the spirit to around 42–45% ABV. Expect an intensely aromatic nose: green apple skins, tropical fruit, fresh pepper, and a volatile, almost solventy top note that mellows with a splash of water.

Cashew arrived on India’s west coast under the Portuguese in the 16th century; distillation turned the fruit’s perishable juice into something durable and celebratory. In Mumbai, feni appears both neat and in highballs with soda and lime, and increasingly in cocktails that lean into its wild, estery profile (think citrus, kokum, and saline accents). You’ll find it at Goan restaurants, coastal seafood joints, and craft-forward bars that champion regional spirits—a bridge between Goa’s orchards and Mumbai’s cosmopolitan palate.

Urak is the delicate first distillate from fermented cashew apple—the gentler cousin of feni. Lower in alcohol (typically 10–15% ABV), it carries juicy aromas of ripe cashew, green mango peel, and fresh herbs, with a whisper of sweetness. Because it spoils more easily and is produced right after the cashew harvest, urak is a strictly seasonal pleasure. Think late spring into early monsoon: a few precious weeks when shipments reach city bars and Goan eateries.

The classic Mumbai serve mirrors coastal Goa: urak topped with Limca or soda, lime, and a pinch of salt; some add a slit green chilli for a grassy bite. Light, zesty, and slightly saline, it’s an antidote to sticky heat and a favorite at informal gatherings. Ask for it by name when the cashew season rolls in—venues often announce “urak season” specials. Drink it quickly and simply; the point is freshness and perfume, not complexity or aging.

Made from the nectar-rich blossoms of the mahua tree (Madhuca longifolia), this spirit has deep roots in central and western India, including parts of Maharashtra. Villagers collect and sun-dry the flowers, then ferment them with water in small vats before pot distillation. Properly made, mahua lands around 30–45% ABV. The profile is singular: honeyed and floral at first, then earthy, with notes of overripe banana, spice, and a gentle smokiness if fired on wood.

Among Adivasi communities, mahua is ceremonial as much as convivial—shared at weddings, harvests, and community rituals. In Mumbai, a handful of craft bars and select retail stores now showcase legally bottled versions, often spotlighting mahua’s terroir in highball-style serves with soda and citrus or in spirit-forward cocktails that treat it like an aromatic white rum or eau-de-vie. If you’re curious, ask for provenance and production details: responsible sourcing and proper distillation make all the difference to the flavor and to supporting traditional producers.

Santra is Maharashtra’s best-known “country liquor”: a molasses-derived neutral spirit diluted and flavored with bitter-orange essence, typically bottled at 42.8% ABV. It pours bright and aromatic, with candy-orange top notes balanced by a faint pithy bitterness. In Mumbai’s no-frills permit rooms—born of the state’s licensing regime—santra is a working-class standby, usually ordered as a quarter bottle with soda or water, and chased with salty chakhna like peanuts, farsan, or spiced chickpeas.

While it lacks the artisanal intrigue of toddy or mahua, santra is undeniably local in context. It speaks to affordability, speed, and the social rhythm of post-shift gatherings. Expect a straightforward, sweet-citrus palate and a warming finish rather than nuance. If you try it, aim for reputable, licensed venues; the category is regulated, but quality and cleanliness of serve still matter. Santra also turns up in simple highballs and citrusy mixers that echo Mumbai’s love for bright, refreshing flavors in sticky weather.

“Port wine” in India is a sweet, often ruby-red table wine inspired by Portuguese styles but not governed by Port appellation rules. Produced by various Maharashtra wineries, it typically sits around 11–14% ABV and may be lightly fortified or simply vinified to retain residual sugar. Expect jammy black fruit, a hint of spice, and a soft, rounded palate that pairs easily with festive foods and desserts.

In Mumbai, East Indian and Goan Catholic families serve port-style wine at Christmas, Easter, and weddings—alongside homemade sweets and roast meats. Local shops stock budget-friendly bottles, and some households still make small-batch wines for the holidays. It’s not a connoisseur’s curiosity so much as a cultural constant: a gentle, convivial pour that signals celebration. Chill it slightly in warm weather, pour into small glasses, and enjoy it the way the city does—more about togetherness than terroir.