A Culinary Time Machine: Oudh 1722 and the Art of Slow Luxury
There’s something undeniably captivating about a restaurant that doesn’t just serve food but transports you to another era. Oudh 1722, Chef Aktar Islam’s London debut, does exactly that—and it’s not just because of its name, a nod to the Nawabi era of 1722. Personally, I think what makes this particularly fascinating is how Islam has managed to revive a cuisine that’s the antithesis of modern dining trends. Awadhi cooking, with its slow, meticulous processes and aromatic subtleties, feels like a rebellion against the fast-paced, spice-heavy Indian food most of us are accustomed to. It’s dead posh, yes, but in a way that feels almost revolutionary in today’s culinary landscape.
The Menu: A Masterclass in Contrast
One thing that immediately stands out is the menu’s duality. On one hand, you have dishes like the lamb shorba, a broth poured over lamb tartare, which feels like a whisper of tradition. On the other, there’s the gol guppa—those tiny, explosive pani puri spheres—that demand you abandon all pretenses of elegance and just shove the whole thing in your mouth. What many people don’t realize is that this contrast isn’t accidental. It’s a deliberate nod to the duality of Awadhi cuisine itself: regal yet approachable, ancient yet timeless.
The naashta section, with its chaat and gilawat kebabs, is where this tension really shines. The melting kebabs, for instance, are the stuff of Lucknowi legend, but here they’re paired with modern twists like smoked tomato and cream. If you take a step back and think about it, this is Islam’s way of saying, ‘Yes, we honor tradition, but we’re not afraid to evolve.’ It’s a fine line to walk, but Oudh 1722 does it with grace.
A Building That Tells a Story
The restaurant itself is housed in a listed Victorian townhouse near Borough Market, and it’s a character in its own right. The narrow staircases, hidden anterooms, and attic bar feel like something out of a Brontë novel. What this really suggests is that Islam isn’t just serving food—he’s curating an experience. The building’s history, from its hatmaking days to its previous life as Lupins, adds layers of intrigue. Personally, I find it refreshing that Oudh 1722 hasn’t tried to erase this past. Instead, it’s embraced the quirks, creating a space that feels both grand and intimate.
The Food: Decadence Without Pretension
Let’s talk about the star of the show: the mutanjan dam biryani. A mountain of fragrant rice, slow-cooked oxtail, and sweet carrot, it’s the kind of dish that makes you want to abandon all manners and dig in. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it encapsulates the essence of Awadhi cuisine—labor-intensive, yes, but ultimately comforting and generous. It’s not just food; it’s an embrace.
The desserts, too, are a masterclass in indulgence. The ras malai, with its soft cheese dumplings soaked in spiced cream, is a perfect end to the meal. But it’s the nimish, a milk soft-serve with saffron, mango, and rose petal, that really stole my heart. A detail that I find especially interesting is that this dessert is one of the oldest in the Awadhi tradition. It’s not just a sweet treat; it’s a taste of history.
The Bigger Picture: Why Oudh 1722 Matters
In my opinion, Oudh 1722 is more than just a restaurant—it’s a statement. At a time when fast-casual dining and Instagrammable dishes dominate the scene, Islam is making a case for slow, thoughtful cooking. This raises a deeper question: Can we still appreciate food that takes time, that demands our attention? I believe we can, and Oudh 1722 proves it.
What this really suggests is that there’s room for both innovation and tradition in the culinary world. Islam isn’t just chasing Michelin stars (though I wouldn’t be surprised if they come knocking); he’s preserving a legacy. And in doing so, he’s created something that feels both familiar and entirely new.
Final Thoughts: A Feast for the Soul
As I left Oudh 1722 with my doggy bag of biryani, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude. In a city as fast-paced as London, this restaurant is a reminder to slow down, to savor, to appreciate. Personally, I think that’s the greatest gift it offers. Yes, the food is finickety, but it’s also deeply satisfying. It’s a blowout feast, but one that leaves you feeling nourished, not just stuffed.
If you’re tired of the same old dining experiences, Oudh 1722 is worth the wait—even if it means joining a 4,000-person waiting list. From my perspective, it’s not just a meal; it’s a journey. And in a world that often feels rushed, that’s something truly special.
