Restaurant Review
There’s something deeply satisfying about returning to a restaurant you once knew under a different name. It’s like bumping into an old friend who’s ditched a questionable haircut, acquired better taste in music, and now knows exactly who they are. That, in essence, is our Sunday lunch at The Black Sheep Bistro — formerly Black Market, now confidently, stylishly, unapologetically itself.
It was one of those end-of-the-year Sundays where you’re neither frantic nor lazy — just gently inclined towards good food, decent drinks, and the promise of not cooking. A pleasant drive through Campal later, we arrived with expectations shaped by memory and appetite. Happily, Black Sheep met both with a grin and a well-shaken cocktail.
Inside, the room hummed. Not crowded enough to feel like a Saturday night mistake, not empty enough to feel tragic. Just the right number of people to generate warmth, chatter, and that subtle restaurant energy that says: yes, people are having a good time here.
Christmas décor was tastefully sprinkled — festive without screaming — and the service remained gracious, alert, and refreshingly unpretentious.
Now. Cocktails.
We ordered the Theek Mirsang, and this, dear reader, is where loyalties were formed. This drink doesn’t announce itself loudly. It arrives calm, composed, almost polite a concoction of feni and pineapple— and then the jalapeño kicks in. Not aggressively, not foolishly, but with intent. A measured heat that sneaks up, warms the palate, and leaves you grinning like someone who’s just heard a slightly naughty joke at a dinner table. This is a cocktail that makes you sit up straighter and consider ordering another purely out of respect.
The Chibud, by comparison, is gentler — a well-crafted, smooth, and perfectly pleasant feni cocktail with musk melon and egg white. A local variety of musk melon, the chibud is deeply rooted in Goan summers, especially in villages where seasonality still dictates what lands on your plate. What makes the chibud special isn’t just flavour — it’s nostalgia. For many Goans, it’s the taste of summer afternoons, of fruit sellers calling out in the heat, of kitchens where nothing needed embellishment to feel complete. It’s seasonal, fleeting, and all the better for it.
The cocktail itself does everything it’s meant to do. But when you’re sitting opposite a drink with jalapeño swagger, someone is bound to fade slightly into the background. Still, it holds its own — and would be a solid choice on a less spicy day.
Starters followed, beginning with the garlic bread, which arrived warm, fragrant, and unreasonably good for something so deceptively simple. Crisp on the outside, soft and indulgent within, it melted into buttery oblivion with alarming ease.
The jackfruit tostada was next. A dish that wears its modern sensibility proudly. Jackfruit, thoughtfully seasoned and texturally pleasing, perched on a crisp tostada base. While it may not have become my personal obsession, it was reasonably decent. The kind of dish you appreciate even if it doesn’t lodge itself permanently in your memory.
For mains, we ordered the Salcete Chicken Rice, and I will admit — this was done with a small cloud of skepticism hovering overhead. Skepticism that promptly packed its bags and left after the first bite. Minced chicken, savoury and comforting, threaded through fragrant rice, topped with chicken pieces and a half-fried egg that did exactly what a half-fried egg should do: ooze gently and enrich everything it touched. It’s a dish rooted in comfort but elevated through balance and restraint.
And then came dessert. The Basque cheesecake.
Look, I’ve had my share of Basque cheesecakes. I’ve nodded approvingly at many. This one? This one made me pause. Creamy without being cloying, and crowned with that glorious caramelised top. It was, quite simply, outstanding — one of the best I’ve had, full stop.
By the time lunch wound down, the room still buzzed softly, the Christmas cheer lingered, and plates were cleared with a smile. Black Sheep Bistro delivered exactly what we came looking for: good food, good drinks, good vibes — and the reassuring sense that some places only get better with time.
Would I return? Absolutely. This is the sort of lunch that makes you forget the rest of the week. And on a Sunday, this kind of amnesia is most welcome!
Honest Reviews 