Our fortnightly buffet started as an accident. About six months after Bhabhi opened, we had cooked too much. A pot of nihari, a full tray of paneer, more rice than we could sell in a regular service. Rather than refrigerate it all, we called a few people, pushed four tables together, and told them dinner was on.
Fourteen people came. Two were family. Four were regulars. The other eight were strangers who had heard about it from someone who heard about it from someone else. They all sat together at one long table and ate for three hours, and by the end people were exchanging phone numbers and asking when the next one would be.
What happens at the buffet
Every two weeks, we cook five dishes from scratch. The menu changes each time — it follows what we feel like cooking, what ingredients are seasonal, what memory is most present that week. There is always a dal, always a meat dish, always a vegetable dish, always rice and bread. Beyond that, nothing is fixed.
There is no ordering. You sit down, we bring food to the table, and it is replenished until it runs out or you stop eating. The price is fixed and modest. You pay once when you arrive. You eat as much as you can manage.
The rule is simple: you sit where there is space. You may end up next to a Taiwanese grandmother, a Dutch semiconductor engineer, or a homesick student from Hyderabad. This is by design.
Why this format
Indian hospitality has a particular relationship with abundance. In a home kitchen, the goal is always that no one goes away hungry — and not just not hungry, but fed beyond what they expected. Our buffet is our attempt to recreate that feeling in a restaurant context. The communal table, the shared dishes, the fact that food keeps appearing until you have to stop it — these are not gimmicks. They are how Indian families have eaten for generations.
In Hsinchu, where many people are far from their families and eating alone more often than they would like, this format has found an audience. We regularly have people who come alone and leave with new friends. We have had marriages that started at a buffet seat. We have had people cry over a bowl of dal because it tasted exactly like something they hadn't tasted in three years.
How to join
The buffet runs every second Saturday evening. We have space for thirty people. It fills up, usually by Thursday. To reserve a seat, message us on WhatsApp with your name and how many people are coming. We'll confirm your place and send you the address. No deposit. Just show up hungry.
