The plates we cook today are mostly the plates we cooked at the start — same recipes, same hands, more salt where the regulars asked for it. Prices are indicative. Ask your steward for the day's catch and the off-menu specials.

Where the charcoal still does the talking. Yemeni mandi, Saudi kabsa, slow-faham, and the saj bread we tear by hand. The pit hasn't gone cold since the day we opened — more than twenty-five years and counting.
— ask for the day's mandi cut; the kitchen sets aside a few at every lunch.
Long-grain basmati slow-cooked in our clay pit with chicken, cardamom, black lime, and a final charcoal kiss.
The same recipe, with bone-in mutton — slow-cooked until the marrow does its work.
A Malabar reading of mandi — beef chunks layered over short-grain rice, sealed and steamed underground-style.
Charcoal-grilled half chicken, rubbed with cumin, chilli, and a hush of cinnamon. Served with garlic toum and saj.
The Saudi cousin of mandi — same long-grain rice, deeper tomato, a thread of saffron, served with chilli mahyawa.
Mutton roasted over a hot stone in the pit, then plated on rice that drank the juices.
Off the vertical spit, with garlic mayo, pickles, tomato, and saj. The late-night order, always.
Three of our paper-thin saj rounds, torn warm. House custom: tear, dip, repeat.
Where the charcoal still does the talking.— House motto · since 1999

Calicut at the table — biryani the long way, ghee-roast the loud way, fish curry the colour of sunset. The plates we grew up eating, plated for company.
— ask the steward whose hand is on the biryani pot today.
Calicut-style dum biryani — Kaima rice layered with slow-cooked beef and browned shallots. Sealed and opened tableside.
The Thalassery school — short-grain Kaima, fragrant with mace and fennel, with bone-in chicken.
Bone-in mutton, slow-dum, with the same Kaima rice. Order the bigger plate — it's worth it.
Mangalorean roots, Calicut hands — boneless chicken roasted in cold-pressed coconut ghee, dry-spiced.
Catch of the day in a kudampuli (tamarind) gravy — fierce, sour, and the colour of the Calicut sunset.
Lace-rim appams from the dosa stone, with a quiet coconut-milk mutton stew. Best at breakfast.
Rice-flour pathiri, dry-ladled chicken curry. The plate we serve when the rain comes.
Flaky, layered, torn by hand. Order with the beef fry.

Clay-oven kebabs and breads — the old north Indian table, kept warm. Slip a roomali under whatever you ordered next door.
Cream-marinated chicken, char-finished. Mild, generous, and the plate the children always finish.
Yoghurt and red-chilli marinated, the bone left in. Mint chutney, onion rings.
Hand-minced mutton seasoned with our own spice mix, threaded on the seekh.
Calicut tiger prawns, marinated in ajwain and yoghurt, charred in the clay.
Soft, buttered, fresh out of the clay.
Buttered, garlic-pressed, coriander-flecked.
Wide, thin, and folded like a kerchief.
Stuffed, sealed, baked. Twin breads on one plate.
From the clay, while it is still warm.— Tandoor section · Savoury Sea Shell

Whatever the Calicut boats brought in this morning. Ask your steward for the day's specials and the catch board — sometimes pomfret, sometimes squid, sometimes the small anchovies we fry crisp.
— the board changes by the hour; first to ask gets the freshest.
A whole snapper, scored, rubbed in our coastal masala, charred over the mandi charcoal. Serves two.
Whole pomfret, pan-fried with green chilli and curry leaf. The seafood the families order without thinking.
Tiger prawns, dry-roasted in coconut ghee with the spice we keep secret.
Tender, chilli-forward, with coconut bits. Best with parotta.
Steamed mussels, then stir-fried with shallots, mustard, curry leaf.
Crisp, salt-sharp, lemon-finished. Five-rupee bar food, plated at restaurant prices.

Indo-Chinese, done the way the families still order it on Fridays — generous, smoky from a hot wok, and unapologetic about the soy.
Capsicum, garlic, soy, more garlic.
The Friday-night order. Goes with the fried rice.
Chillies, scallions, an egg if you ask.
Wok-tossed, the lo-mein cousin.
The party order, deep-fried, served with chilli mayo.
Bell pepper, cabbage, scallion, the works.

Soups, mezze, the morning plates. The kind of food you order to start, and end up making the meal.
Rich, perfectly seasoned, wonderfully comforting — the soup the regulars start with.
Cumin-forward, lemon-finished, served with toasted saj.
Stone-ground chickpea, tahini, olive oil — torn saj alongside.
Roasted red pepper and walnut dip. Sweet, slightly hot, deeply addictive.
Fried golden, parsley-flecked, with tahini.
Cucumber, tomato, fried pita, sumac.

The desserts your grandmother kept asking about, plus the cold things for the after-dinner walk.
Egyptian bread pudding with milk, pistachio, raisin. Warm from the oven.
Cheese-laced, syrup-soaked, rosewater-finished.
Always at hand.
Black, cardamom-thread, lemon-finished. The Malabar end-note.
Fresh lime, mint, a quiet sweetness.
Hot, milky, slow-pulled. The waiter's recommendation if you ask.
Tables fill on weekends — reserve ahead at either Calicut house, or order home via Zomato & Swiggy.
— the table is set, your seat is kept.