ONE JANUARY MORNING in 1928, a young Irani – not long arrived in Bombay – was waiting to collect a parcel at Victoria Terminus. Unusually, the train was running late. The Irani waited, patiently; then, growing hot and bored, he decided to stretch his legs. He wandered amongst the station crowds and then down a side track, off the main terminus.
Founding myths
The Dishoom King's Cross Story
In which a young Irani opens a café in a Godown behind Victoria Terminus, c. 1928
5 min read
Quickly, he found himself in a vast, airy shed filled with the hubbub of a thousand industries crossing paths: freight trains pulling in with a squeal, wagons being loaded and unloaded, men and machines labouring with their cargo. Railway workers shouted to one another in a dozen languages: Hindi, Marathi, Gujarati, Bihari.
The Irani was of an astute business mind. He had come to Bombay with almost nothing, and he was always seeking an opportunity to strengthen his toehold there. He also understood how this city could be hard on her people. That day, standing there in the vastness of that old godown and watching the men at work, he felt a keen sense of opportunity. These men, weary from their toil, should surely be able to quench their thirst and sate their hunger.
That day, standing there in the vastness of that old godown and watching the men at work, he felt a keen sense of opportunity.
The very next morning, he began selling his Irani chai and a few baked goods from an impromptu stall in an inconspicuous corner of the godown. The railwaymen came in their dozens to sample his offerings. The news spread, passed on from worker to worker, supervisor to babu, and the little stall flourished. The Irani introduced a few additional items here and there: a rickety table, some chairs, a shelf displaying plump fresh pau, a wooden bench to sit on. It wasn’t luxury by any means, but all who spent a moment there were glad of it.
Although at first wary of being ousted from his borrowed corner, he soon became bolder: the station guards were grateful for a ready source of chai, and would happily take their baksheesh in spicy keema. The Irani ‘café’ inched outwards appropriating its own space in the large transit shed, buoyed by the burgeoning number of loyal patrons. In almost unnoticeable little steps, it gradually started dominating the godown.
Decades later, the Irani’s hair has turned from jet black to grey, his jacket is cut from better cloth, but his smile is just as it was. His beloved India has changed dramatically. She has fought for her independence and has been torn asunder by partition. The gora sahibs are long gone, and a young nation is forging its identity. And from a small corner of the shed, the humble stall has grown into an established café – in truth, even something of an institution. The renown of the Irani and his hospitality has spread far; everyone – labourers, smartly-uniformed train supervisors, well-heeled sahibs – comes for a cup of cutting chai, a quick breakfast, a hearty meal. Railwaymen, angadias and passengers meet there and dawdle together, reading their newspapers, loudly exchanging jokes and political opinions, mopping their plates clean with the Irani’s hot pau. And at the end of a long hot day, a refreshing beer (discreetly passed from a hidden box of ice) is a most welcome reward.
Even after so many years, the Irani never fails to greet each one of his guests with a nod and a smile. Whether it is an omelette at daybreak, a big bowl of Nalli Nihari at lunch, an afternoon snack or a sly peg of liquor from a bottle before home-time, his welcome is as warm as the chai is hot, and every guest goes on his way feeling that he has found a small source of solace and joy in the old godown behind the great Victoria Terminus.
Victoria Terminus c.1928.
One January morning in 1928, a young Irani – not long arrived in Bombay – was waiting to collect a parcel at Victoria Terminus.
Quickly, he found himself in a vast, airy shed filled with the hubbub of a thousand industries crossing paths.
Railway workers shouted to one another in a dozen languages: Hindi, Marathi, Gujarati, Bihari.
That day, standing there in the vastness of that old godown and watching the men at work, he felt a keen sense of opportunity.
You are within a former railway transit shed. To Londoners this would be a warehouse, but to Bombayites, it is a godown. For over 100 years this building passed goods between Britain and the rest of the world. Between London and Bombay. Dishoom King’s Cross found a home in an old Victorian industrial building and tells the story of Indian Independence through its design and artwork. All are welcome.
Begin your day at Dishoom with breakfast, which might be a Bacon Naan Roll, a Parsi Omelette or House Granola. Then, lunch lightly on a Paneer Roomali Roll and fancy Salads, or linger with a feast. Refresh your afternoon with a drop of Chai and a small plate or two. Dine early or dine late. Or just join us for a tipple – perhaps an India Gimlet for upward and onward journeys.
King's cross Specials
Nihari – a famously hearty and robust dish – is synonymous with celebration. Made into a biryani, it is doubly so. Tender shank of lamb is layered with rice and caramelised onions then sealed beneath a pastry blanket. Enriched further with kaleji (chicken liver) raita and nihari gravy. Best when shared.
Oak-aged mandarin shrub, ginger, Hayman’s Gently Rested gin, dashed off with quinine and Szechuan pepper. Note for scholars or nit-pickers: Parsi merchant Sir Jejeebhoy sent three weavers to China to learn the art of brocade silk. ‘Tan’ is three; ‘Choi’ is the teacher’s name.
Reservations
at King’s Cross
Dishoom is mostly a walk-in café. All are welcome, any time, no reservations needed. However, if you'd like to make a reservation, groups of any size may book during the day. After 6pm, we accept bookings for groups of six or more.
In the veritable artery that is the godown, with a thousand industries crossing paths, a man, smiling, serves cups of Chai and pau to workers and passers by. The sense of opportunity is rife, both for his stall, and for independence. Look carefully and you will see original posters and countless other details that tell the story of India’s freedom and the people who struggled to obtain it.
Bombay via London
Planning your visit
Find Us
Dishoom King's Cross
5 Stable Street
London
N1C 4AB
Contact
Tel: 020 7420 9321
Opening times
Monday—Wednesday 8am to 11pm
Thursday—Friday 8am to 12am
Saturday 9am to 12am
Sunday 9am to 11pm
Seasonal opening times
Christmas Eve: Last seating at 2:30 PM
Christmas Day & Boxing Day: Closed
27th December: Open at 9 AM
New Year’s Eve: Open till 1 AM
New Year’s Day: Open at 9 AM
January 6th: Closed for our team Christmas party
January 7th: Closed
January 8th: Open as usual
Transport
Nearest Tube Station: King's Cross St. Pancras
Facilities
Outdoor seating
Accessibility
Wheelchair-accessible entrance
Wheelchair-accessible lift
Wheelchair-accessible seating
Step-free access to the front door
Loo on the same floor as the dining area
Disabled loo
Group bookings
We accept bookings online up to four months in advance for up to 16 guests and accept enquiries for 16+. For larger parties or for specific event requests, do get in touch with us directly at feasting@dishoom.com to book.
Dishoom King's Cross
5 Stable Street
London
N1C 4AB
His welcome is as warm as the chai is hot, and every guest goes on his way feeling that he has found a small source of solace and joy in the old godown behind the great Victoria Terminus.
The story continues
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