How a brazier became a philosophy, and a philosophy became a dining room.
Angithi means the brazier — the bed of live coals a grandmother once kept burning through the night so the first roti of morning could go straight from ember to hand. Long before there were menus, there was only the fire, and the cook who learned to listen to it.
We built this kitchen around that same discipline. Clay tandoors fired with mango wood, open sigris tended by hand, dum pots sealed with dough so the smoke has nowhere to go but in. Nothing here is cooked to a timer — it's cooked until the fire says it's ready.
Every dish that leaves our kitchen has passed through one of three fires: the tandoor, a clay well of radiant heat; the sigri, an open grill for quick, smoky char; and the degh, a sealed pot for the long, patient work of dum cooking.
We source charcoal and mango wood from local suppliers around Jharkhand, and our spice blends are ground fresh each morning rather than kept pre-mixed — a small discipline that changes everything about how a dish tastes on day one versus day thirty.
No gas, no electric grills — every flame in this kitchen is wood or charcoal.
Our dum pots are dough-sealed and opened tableside, smoke intact.
Recipes gathered from dhabas and royal kitchens across the subcontinent.
Some dishes take four hours. We start them before you arrive.
Designed & developed by Mohm'd Nafees