Gymkhana: The Tasty (Colonial) Memories in Mayfair

Social and colonial stuff

For those with limited cultural and Commonwealth knowledge (like me), Gymkhana may be summed up as a posh colonial-style sport club where members come dine and drink. And walking in, the ambiance and the design – a well-lacquered floor, framed pre- and post-colonial equestrian memorabilia, hunting taxidermy, and so forth – did live up to the brief. Social, nearly informal. There was also an unmistaken vibe of masculine gentility as I was seated at the table by a pristinely uniformed staff (in a Nehru jacket?) who explained away, with great but simplified detail, the culinary crux of Indian cuisine that I am never familiar with. (Yes, by now, I hope you have spotted that the cuisine of South Asian origins is not my forte).

The menu at Gymkhana is large, literally, and with the price befitting the area. It is divided into bar snacks (£3-11), nashta/breakfast snacks (£5-12.5), kebabs&tikkas (£7.50-13), game&chop (£10-40), curry&biryani (£13.5-55), sabzi/vegetable (£6.5-8), sides£condiments (£1-5), and desserts (£7-8). If you are baffled by choices, you can opt for a 5-course Game menu (£65), a 7-course tasting menu (£55) and a 7-course vegetarian tasting menu (£45). All these tasting options are, reportedly, served in large portion for the whole table to share. It is noteworthy that Gymkhana isn’t an Indian restaurant focusing on one region but a mix-and-match of South Asian roots with contemporary touches. There are also strong elements of seasonal British produce and attempts at nose-to-tail eating.

I started with two of the nashta dishes, both of which were out of this world. Kid Goat Methi Keema (£11) arrived with freshly baked Pao. I asked for Bheja (brain) to be added to the feisty Keema. These creamy brain-y morsels helped mellow out the joyfully anxious taste of spices brilliantly. The kid meat was also of premium quality; the spices which were skillfully blended did not dominate. Duck Egg Bhurji with Lobster (£12.50) was also bl**dy delicious. Bhurji (in my book) is a curd-y scrambled egg. The Bhurji was not as much a heat-ful slap to my face as the Keema but it did have depth and length of taste. Here bits of fresh lobster were folded in. Just perfectly cooked. The consistency of the egg was dreamily creamy but not heavily creamed, allowing the main ingredients to shine. The accompanying Malabar Paratha (rolled, flattened and fried dough) was crispy on the outside and gummy on the inside. The momentum was maintained by Lasooni Wild Tiger Prawns with Red Pepper Chutney (£13). The prawns were marinated in a garlic-dominant concoction and grilled to a mildly smoky effect. The chutney was bold but refined. Again showcasing the care in both sourcing of ingredients and executing them right. Sadly, Aubergine and Bottle Gourd Pakora (£4.50) did not live up to the preamble as I found them too dry on the inside.

For the mains, I ordered Suckling Pig Cheek Vindaloo (£18), Wild Muntjac Biryani with Pomegranate and Mint Raita (£25), Palak Paneer (£6.50) and Coastal Spiced Okra (£8). The vindaloo was pleasant. I loved the subtle acidity and the cubes of pig’s cheeks that disintegrated nicely. I would prefer it more fiery, though. Palak Paneer was successful. The pureed spinach was cooked to ooze a refreshing and mineral-y taste. The squeaky cheese (made in house I believe) had good depth. Okra (finely sliced and lightly fried) lacked dimensions. The real highlight (and a must-order dish) was the venison biryani. (Muntjac means deer). Let’s begin with the appearance. We were wow-ed by the state-of-art dome – AKA the seed-and-spiced-studded puff pastry that ballooned majestically – which, when breaking, vented the most wonderful aroma. There was a layer of rice on top of venison, which I was instructed to mix it up thoroughly. First bite.. the rice was puffed and light. The spices – ranging from garlic, ginger, mint, to cardamom, cumin, and masala – were finely tuned that none overwhelms another. The deer (in my ignorant term) with tomato-based curry retained a touch of heat. The rose-y and minty raita (served chilled) brought about synergy. I settled for Saffron Pistachio Kulfi Falooda (£8), a layered Kulfi ice cream with basil seeds, sweet noodle and condensed milk. Very aromatic, though, given that none of the dishes were extremely spicy, I found it unnecessarily too sweet. TOB thought the same for his Rose Kulfi Falooda (£8).

(The best way to eat at Gymkhana is to get a group of friends – maybe 4 and more – so you can share and finish dishes. Both of us couldn’t really eat up ours).