Dishoom

We Tried to Order “Just a Little of Everything” at Dishoom Canary Wharf. The Table Nearly Collapsed. 🍛 🤣

There’s a special kind of confidence that comes over you when a smiling waitress looks you dead in the eye and says, “Oh they’re small plates, honestly… go for the big one, you can handle it.”

We believed her. Of course we believed her. We were at Dishoom Canary Wharf, we’d been invited to try a little of everything, and the woman radiated the kind of calm authority that makes you ignore every previous experience you’ve ever had with Indian restaurant portions.

Reader, we could not handle it! 🤯

By the time the last dish landed, our table looked like a very glamorous, very delicious crime scene. There was barely space left for the drinks. We spent the final twenty minutes of the meal rearranging plates like some kind of edible Tetris, and still ended up leaving with two enormous bags of leftovers that kept us going for the next two days. Honest-to-god life-ruining (in the best possible way) amounts of food.

The Dishoom Canary Wharf founding myth

It’s 1973, opposite the Bombay Stock Exchange, and a young man called Nauzer – son of a humble Irani café owner – has turned his late father’s little place into the swishest café in town. He’s the bachelor stockbroker everyone trusts with their life savings, the room is full of film stars, gangsters, journalists and socialites, and everything is glittering… until one very bad deal means he is suddenly, spectacularly, in way over his head. The phone is ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

(That’s the official story they tell for this branch. It’s pure 1970s Bombay finance-meets-intrigue, and the whole restaurant is designed around it – all modern furniture, rosewood, cut-glass and the faint whiff of impending scandal.)

Where to Start? "Let's slow things down a little and make a plan" 🖊️ 🫢

Looking through the menu is quite the challenge - with so many incredible dishes to choose from. Sensing our struggle, the waitress brought some Chote Papad to nibble on and knowing the cocktail menu would have the same impact. Recommended two pints of Indian's favourite IPA, Kingfisher. 🍺

Back to the bit where we kept asking “but how big though?”

We genuinely tried to be sensible. Every time we pointed at something on the menu we did the classic British “is that a proper portion or a tasting portion?” dance. Every single time the answer came back sunny and reassuring: small, shareable, you’ll be fine.

Then the food started arriving.

Surely a typical bhaji is just a little nibble thing right?! Served on a chowpatty tray, the Pau Bhaji was not the average snack we were expecting – it's an incredible deconstructed version that you put together yourself with buttery-spicy, mashed vegetables and toasted home-made buns. An old-time favourite with lovely qualities, pre-eminently nicer than any you have sampled before. No food is more Bombay.

The Lamb Samosas looked a lot more like what we were expecting – flaky, spiced, gone in a flash. Made with Gujarati filo, instead of the usual shortcrust. The Gunpowder Potatoes were smoky, buttery, crushed with aromatic seeds and herbs. Dangerous! 🥔

Two more stunning dishes arrived - both in my top five favourites! The Dishoom House Chaat has sweet potato piled high with cool yoghurt, pomegranate, beetroot, radish, carrot, tamarind and green chutney. Proper street-food fireworks in a bowl. The Chilli Cheese Toast is another twist on a British classic with green chillies, capsicum and garlic in a cheddar melt on white sliced loaf. I could eat these every day!

Next came some classics from the grill - succulent, charred Masala Prawns for me and Dishoom Chicken Tikka (for the meat eater) with a marinade of sweet vinegar laced with ginger, turmeric, garlic and green chilli - no yogurt in site. 🦐

The Chilli Broccoli Salad with toasted pistachios, mint, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, dates and lime is the kind of salad that makes you feel virtuous while still tasting completely filthy.

At some point we stopped pretending this was a normal dinner and just leaned into the chaos. The team were absolute legends about it – patient, funny, and completely unfazed by the fact that our table now looked like it was staging a one-restaurant food festival. And that was before the sides of Raita, Masala Paratha, Cheese Naan and whatever else we thought we “needed.”

The drinks situation

The cocktail menu is more of story book than a menu with enticing tales behind each drink - this also needed time to be read and appreciated before making a decision. Dishoom cocktails have always been a strong suit, but the ones we tried this evening felt particularly inventive.

The first was the easiest choice, a New Permit Room Old-Fashioned with coconut-washed Woodford Reserve, Pedro Ximénez and Medjool-date liqueur which was rich and a bit naughty. Mario and I differ a lot when it comes to cocktails but an Old Fashioned is something we can agree on, so we've been on the hunt for London's best and this certainly makes this list. 🥃

three martinis and one of Bombay’s most scandalous true stories

This is not just a cocktail flight. The Commander, His Wife & Her Lover is a three-act drama in coupe glasses, inspired by the real 1959 case that had all of Bombay talking for months.

Commander Kawas Nanavati, a handsome Parsi naval officer, discovered that his English wife Sylvia was having an affair with a flashy businessman called Prem Ahuja. He confronted Ahuja, shot him dead, and then calmly walked into a police station to hand himself in. The trial that followed was pure theatre – one of the last jury trials in India, packed with high society, newspaper headlines, and enough passion, jealousy and class tension to fuel a dozen Bollywood films.

Dishoom has turned the whole affair into three modestly sized martinis:

1. The Lover – Dishoom vermouth infused with a touch of lady’s fingers, Fords gin and black pepper tincture (for the shots that were fired), finished with a green olive. Passionate, dangerous, and slightly too charming for its own good.
2. The Wife – Stranger & Sons gin, Cocchi Extra Dry vermouth, Poire William and a splash of Axia Spirit (the jealousy-inducing one), topped with a lipstick-red roquito pepper. Sweet, sharp, and capable of causing absolute chaos.
3. The Commander – Angostura Amaro, Fino sherry and Hayman’s Royal Dock gin, pink-hued and finished with a black olive. Dignified, wounded, and still standing tall after everything.

They arrive together on a tray like three characters who should never have been left alone in the same room. You sip them in order, feel increasingly dramatic, and suddenly understand why the entire city of Bombay lost its mind over this story in 1959. It’s clever, delicious, and the perfect liquid companion to a meal that already feels like it belongs in a slightly scandalous novel.

the main attractions

My favourite dish was the Paneer Roomali Roll with handkerchief-thin bread wrapped around grilled paneer, onion, peppers and mint chutney on the side. Absolutely delicious and perfect to have on it's own for a quick lunch if you don't have time to feast.

Salli Boti – the Canary Wharf special that deserves its own standing ovation

Salli Boti is a proper Parsi classic, the kind of dish that makes old Bombay aunties nod approvingly. Tender lamb is slow-braised in a rich, deeply flavoured gravy until it basically falls apart if you look at it sternly, then finished with a generous scattering of salli – those impossibly crispy, golden potato straws that shatter the second you bite them. It arrives with buttered roomali roti (the handkerchief-thin bread that is basically edible silk) and is listed as the Chef’s Canary Wharf Special for very good reason.

They serve it half-plate or full-plate, and the full one is the size of a small country. It is rich, comforting, slightly dramatic, and exactly the sort of thing Nauzer would have ordered to impress a shady business contact while pretending everything was fine. We ordered the full plate. We do not regret this decision, even if our leftovers bag needed its own seat on the way home.

The dessert that made me emotional ♥️ 🥄

I’m going to be honest: I have mourned crème brûlée ever since I became intolerant to milk. That crack of the caramel, the cool custard underneath… it’s a wound.

Then along came the Basmati Kheer. Silky caramelised basmati rice pudding cooked with vanilla-infused coconut milk, cardamom and cashews. It’s vegan. It’s luxurious. It has that same comforting, slightly set texture that makes you want to scrape the bowl with your finger when no one’s looking. I loved it so much I may have become slightly emotional at the table. No notes. Just pure, creamy, cardamom-scented joy.

To accompany I would recommend the Baba’s Sesame Espresso Martini (Finlandia Vodka, molasses bitters, chai syrup, white sesame tincture, black sesame) or Naughty Chocolate Chai with Slane Irish Whiskey. Properly grown-up and delicious!

The secret keyrings

Just when we thought the evening couldn’t get any more generous, the team produced the secret keyrings.

These are the famous Matka keyrings – each Dishoom has its own design – and they do something rather special. On weekdays before 6pm you can show your keyring when you ask for the bill. They bring out a little wooden board, a brass pot and a die. Roll a six and the entire table’s meal (food and drinks, up to 12 people) is on the house. It’s pure Bombay lottery energy and completely brilliant.

They told us they’re listening out for people who mention that Sidetrack sent them. Say the magic words and you might just walk away with one of these little treasures yourself.

The verdict

Dishoom Canary Wharf (tucked into Wood Wharf with that 1970s Bombay financial-district glow) did what Dishoom always does: made us feel looked after, slightly overwhelmed in the best way, and already planning the next visit while still chewing.

Would we recommend going hungry and ordering “a little of everything”? Absolutely. Would we recommend believing the waitress when she says the plates are small? Also yes – but maybe bring a slightly larger bag. And stretchy trousers. And if you do go, tell them Sidetrack sent you. You never know what might end up on your keyring.

So there you have it – a restaurant that doesn’t just serve food, it serves an entire 1970s Bombay soap opera with excellent leftovers and a secret keyring at the end. Nauzer would have approved (right up until the phone started ringing).