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I know it’s borderline unhinged to write about two Indian restaurants in a single city. What kind of travel blog am I running here?? But as someone who adores London and dreams about Indian food on a weekly basis, I firmly believe these two restaurants deserve a permanent (brick-and-mortar… pun intended) home on my site, and for completely different reasons.
Gymkhana is your once-in-a-lifetime, big-bang, big-buck, blow-your-mind meal. You need a £100 deposit to even enter the chat, and you certainly won’t walk out with your savings account unscathed. But the experience? Worth it. The biryani alone? Worth it. The Michelin stars? Worth it.
Dishoom, on the other hand, is an everyday joint. Not “casual,” not “cheap,” but accessible, warm, and the kind of place you can bring your parents, your friends, your kids, or yourself. So it would be misleading to let you think that when I want Indian food in London I’m swanning over to my favorite two-Michelin-star spot in Mayfair. No. I’m bopping around the city and heading straight for my favorite restaurant in London: Dishoom.
She deserves her own post. So here she is.

Key Details
Type: Indian restaurant (Bombay-inspired)
Neighborhood: Multiple London locations (Covent Garden, Shoreditch, King’s Cross, etc.)
Best For: Groups, families, lively dinners, first-timers to London
Price: ££
Vibe: Bustling, moody, cinematic, time-travel-to-1960s-Bombay energy
Good to Know: Expect a queue; reservations only for groups or before 6 pm; chai served in line

About Dishoom
Dishoom was created by Shamil Thakrar and his cousin Kavi as an homage to the Irani cafés of 20th-century Bombay. The nostalgic, beloved gathering places with checkerboard floors, spinning ceiling fans, and walls covered in family portraits. And yes, the Harvard Business School grad behind it all was obsessed with recreating not just the menu, but the entire feeling of those cafés.
When you walk into any Dishoom, you know you are somewhere intentional. Dark, moody lighting. Chatter everywhere. Staff weaving through the space with a kinetic energy that’s chaotic but comforting.
Shockingly, the first Dishoom in Covent Garden wasn’t the instant hit Thakrar expected. So he rebuilt the concept, giving each new location its own backstory, as if it were a real Bombay café in the 1960s: Who would dine here? What would they care about? What would the walls have witnessed? That storytelling-first mentality launched Dishoom into the stratosphere.
Today, there are 15 locations and counting, with rumored openings in Las Vegas and New York City. The takeover is coming, and frankly, I welcome it.

Visiting Dishoom
One of the things I respect most about Dishoom is the process. Everything, from the queue to the bar handoff to the bill transfer, is so expertly choreographed that you never feel lost or annoyed, even when you are very much standing outside in the rain waiting to eat.
The Queue (Yes, There Will Be One)
There is always a queue. Always. I’ve been to multiple Dishoom locations in London for dinner and I have never once waltzed right in. I’ve watched people bail after a few minutes, even after I assure them the wait is 100% worth it.
But Dishoom truly makes the time pass.
And if you hate waiting?
Go at lunch. I have never waited for lunch.
They also take reservations before 6pm for groups.

The Process
To Dishoom’s credit, when they quote you a 40-minute wait, they mean 40 minutes. Not 37. Not 54. Forty minutes on the nose.
Step 1: The Outdoor Line (AKA: The Chai Stage)
Your visit officially begins outside, usually under an umbrella. But before you can spiral into a “why am I standing in the rain for curry” mindset, a staff member appears with tiny, steaming cups of housemade chai. Piping hot, fragrant, spiced, it’s the perfect warm hug in beverage form.
Occasionally they offer an alternative tea, but the chai is the dependable classic.


Step 2: The Indoor Wait (AKA: Cocktail Hour)
Once you reach the door, you’re welcomed inside, handed a buzzer, and directed toward the bar. Dishoom’s cocktail list is one of the most creative I’ve seen, my most recent drink came with a piece of dark chocolate perched on top, and it actually worked.
If the bar is too crowded, fear not. Dishoom staff materialize out of nowhere, take your drink order, and lead you to a mysterious table you absolutely did not notice before. They really are hospitality wizards.
Right at the 40-minute mark, your buzzer goes off. Somehow your bar tab has followed you through space and time and magically transfers to your dinner table. Iconic behavior.
Ready to Explore? Book Here ↓
The Food
It took everything in me not to make this entire post just a love letter to the food. The menu reads like a newspaper, another Thakrar choice, because he wanted to avoid menu “marketing speak.” Instead, the writing team was mentored by a novelist. You can tell.
While you truly can’t go wrong, here’s my forever order:
Starters
- Chili Chicken — Yes, it’s spicy. No, you shouldn’t skip it.
- Dishoom Chicken Tikka — Perfectly grilled, juicy, and served simply so the flavor does all the talking.
Mains
- The Black Daal — If you order one single thing, let it be this. I fully intend to die in a bathtub of this daal. It’s smoky, creamy, slow-cooked for 24 hours, and my favorite food on the planet. I don’t think I could ever tire of it.
- Chicken Ruby — A beautifully spiced, silky curry that pairs with literally anything.
Sides
- Grilled Greens — Because vegetables should appear on the table occasionally.
- Garlic Naan — Obviously. It is both a utensil and a spiritual experience.
Recently I tried the Tandoori Chop and was pleasantly surprised, slightly spicy, perfectly charred, and ideal if you like pineapple.
Note:
The mains do not come with rice, so order a side. But honestly? I prefer using naan to scoop up every last drop of daal and ruby sauce.



Dessert (AKA: Don’t Skip This)
You cannot leave Dishoom without a pudding. Full stop.
If you’re too stuffed, at least get a chai, chocolate chai, or mint tea to finish the meal.
But if you still have room, the Basmati Kheer is perfection. Imagine rice pudding and crème brûlée had a baby, smooth, lightly spiced, creamy, and topped with a blueberry compote that makes it feel indulgent without being heavy or overly sweet.

The Bottom Line
Dishoom may be a certified London institution now, but I actually discovered it years ago because Mindy Kaling said it was one of her favorite Indian restaurants in the city. So, to close this out, I would like to thank my close personal friend Mindy for recommending what is now my favorite restaurant in the world.
If you visit Dishoom I only ask (as my bestie Caitlin always says), send pics of food.




