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Mohalla Restaurant, Dubai: I Wish I Ate Here More
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Review: Mohalla Restaurant, Dubai: I Wish I Ate Here More
Mohalla Restaurant, Building no 5, Dubai Design District, Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Chaat selection: AED 29-44, small plates: AED 17-89, kebabs: AED 51-89, big Plates to share: AED 42-58, biryani: AED 45-399, sides: AED 9-37. Information here is true when published, but you can find the latest information on Mohalla Restaurant’s Website or call +971 52 542 1937.
Written by Liam Collens // Written by Liam Collens // Find other reviews here. Liam was most recently invited by Mohalla Restaurant.
As Mohalla Restaurant expands from Dubai to Saudi Arabia, its contemporary lens on Indian casual dining delivers big and subtle flavour bite by bite.
The Highs
The Lows
The Highs
The Lows
Review: Mohalla Restaurant, Dubai: I Wish I Ate Here More
It’s tricky to the point of dangerous territory for me to write and review Indian restaurants (although it’s not stopped me before). Do I know enough to write about it and will the Cancel Crusaders come a knocking?
I did not grow up in India and, sure I went a few times, but I only went to Delhi; acutely aware that my benevolent hosts kindly whittled my experiences down to certain places. Either really good ones or the ones they believe people with accents like mine would enjoy. (Sidebar: I did escape to Chandni Chowk one afternoon to eat street food and walk around the Red Fort. It’s glorious.)
Also, writers tip-toeing outside of “their culture” coaxes the Internet’s darkest demons from their digital lairs. The wokerati – foaming with a tribal bloodlust – drag and cancel their catch in Trial by Twitter.
I did grow up in Trinidad where Indian food is everywhere — and I mean everywhere. Nearly forty percent of the island is of Indian descent. That still does not make me an expert. We call dishes by different names: buss up shut vs paratha, doubles vs chole bhature. Time and distance are funny things, so Trinidadian-Indian cuisine evolved over generations inching further away from its origins.
So all of this is to say the following: notwithstanding this childhood education, the opportunity of good travel and the selfless benevolence (and patience) of better-informed colleagues and friends like the incomparable Pallavi Sangtani (who will confirm what I don’t know about Indian food), I am no expert on Indian food. So, instead, I’ll write about joy.
Isn’t that the most important thing? Today I set aside my usual self-aggrandising pomposity. A man who could fairly be labelled as “Mayor of Wankerville, Population of One” when presented with a bowl of good intentions by someone who works 16 hours a day. The kind of self-importance that led to the fair satirisation of chefs, restaurants and their disciples in The Menu (worth a watch, guess who I am).

Mohalla Restaurant dining rooms with floor-to-ceiling windows looking onto Dubai Design District.
I did not grow up in India and, sure I went a few times, but I only went to Delhi; acutely aware that my benevolent hosts kindly whittled my experiences down to certain places. Either really good ones or the ones they believe people with accents like mine would enjoy. (Sidebar: I did escape to Chandni Chowk one afternoon to eat street food and walk around the Red Fort. It’s glorious.)
Also, writers tip-toeing outside of “their culture” coaxes the Internet’s darkest demons from their digital lairs. The wokerati – foaming with a tribal bloodlust – drag and cancel their catch in Trial by Twitter.
I did grow up in Trinidad where Indian food is everywhere — and I mean everywhere. Nearly forty percent of the island is of Indian descent. That still does not make me an expert. We call dishes by different names: buss up shut vs paratha, doubles vs chole bhature. Time and distance are funny things, so Trinidadian-Indian cuisine evolved over generations inching further away from its origins.
So all of this is to say the following: notwithstanding this childhood education, the opportunity of good travel and the selfless benevolence (and patience) of better-informed colleagues and friends like the incomparable Pallavi Sangtani (who will confirm what I don’t know about Indian food), I am no expert on Indian food. So, instead, I’ll write about joy.
Isn’t that the most important thing? Today I set aside my usual self-aggrandising pomposity. A man who could fairly be labelled as “Mayor of Wankerville, Population of One” when presented with a bowl of good intentions by someone who works 16 hours a day. The kind of self-importance that led to the fair satirisation of chefs, restaurants and their disciples in The Menu (worth a watch, guess who I am).
Mohalla Restaurant dining rooms with floor-to-ceiling windows looking onto Dubai Design District.
Mohalla Restaurant draws on different parts of Indian cuisine
Mohalla Restaurant, today, is considered by joy factor. I bring along a friend (a fellow joymonger) who does not review restaurants but willingly suffers in my company in pursuit of all things tasty. Mohalla is not new to me. I’ve eaten here over many years and watched its recent expansion into Saudi Arabia (like many Dubai concepts).
Mohalla Restaurant lies on the outskirts of Design District (unlicensed), where the fashion and beauty brands congregate and the people who write about them. Here Chef Adwait Anantwair, ex-Tresind Studio, shares his ethos to be flavour-forward without preservatives, additives or dyes.
The soaring ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows create a bright dining space during the day — a warm, homely glow during the evening. A monochrome mural accent wall and wicker crafts adorn the walls. Mohalla’s laid-back decor shuns Dubai’s OTT decadence.


Postcards from Mohalla Restaurant’s inside dining room and decor.
Mohalla Restaurant lies on the outskirts of Design District (unlicensed), where the fashion and beauty brands congregate and the people who write about them. Here Chef Adwait Anantwair, ex-Tresind Studio, shares his ethos to be flavour-forward without preservatives, additives or dyes.
The soaring ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows create a bright dining space during the day — a warm, homely glow during the evening. A monochrome mural accent wall and wicker crafts adorn the walls. Mohalla’s laid-back decor shuns Dubai’s OTT decadence.
Postcards from Mohalla Restaurant’s inside dining room and decor.
Mohalla capably cooks big and hefty as well as subtle, as this sauce is gentle and rich enough to use as an overnight face mask.
Mohalla Restaurant’s food
Mohalla roughly translates as ‘my neighbour’ or ‘my community’ with homely dishes like Pancho’s Dahi Chicken. It’s a whole chicken leg slow-cooked to fork tender and served in a gravy thick with yoghurt, black pepper and ghee (AED 55). However, it’s not all homespun heroes here.
The chaat and small plates are my favourite end of the Mohalla playground. Occasionally you’ll find me picking through two or more of the chaat or small courses for a good feed at lunchtime. Price-wise, any eatery can be as expensive as you want, but Mohalla’s pricing starts noticeably lower than many of its ilk.
Generous mounds of avocado papdi chaat jewelled with pomegranate and sprightly chutneys (AED 32). The calamari koliwada stands out above its peer, the crispy calamari (AED 41) as a generous basket of judiciously-cooked squid in warming goda spices with chaat masala and a peanut Japanese Mayo (AED 71). The prawn pepper fry bolshy punch slaps. Plump prawns are precisely cooked and coated in black pepper sauce buttressed with potatoes, shallots and cherry tomatoes (AED 66). A simple, ripe tomato and peanut salad cools with its tamarind dressing (AED 35). There’s joy to be found in these dishes. And, there’s pani puri; deliciously explosive pani puri (AED 29)


Mohalla Restaurant’s Tomato and Peanut Salad with Tamarind Dressing, Crispy Calamari with Chillis, Shrimp Pepper Fry and Calamari Koliwada.
You could roll over at this point, but you’d miss out on mains like the joyous vindaloo lamb chops (AED 89). Deeply flavoured, tender lamb and scented with char. I’ve eaten inferior lamb chops in flashier places at higher prices. (I’d love to say where, but he’s a big-name chef in these parts and, well, you know.) The Rayalaseema prawn curry sports a duo of whole prawns wallowing in a fragrant broth of Andhra-style curry (AED 55). Mohalla capably cooks big and hefty as well as subtle, as this sauce is gentle and rich enough to use as an overnight face mask.
Does everything spark joy, Marie Kondo? Well-stacked rafts of ‘crispy’ mughlai parotha want texture and its nose-blast of chilli sauce may overwhelm some. The dish wants acid: a grilled lime or a chimichurri of sorts. There’s a balance question here as it’s all a bit soft and hot. The verdant butter prawns in a peanut pesto present Spanish lands flat overall (AED 66). Maybe a curry leaf or coriander oil? This is where I’ll be educated about biryanis. While the chicken biryani could feed an entire village plus the town next door, it lacks that steamy, pungent and fragrant waft that I so closely associate with my favourite biryanis (AED 72). The kulfi and falooda with mango isn’t my kind of dessert, as I wish the kulfi came alone (but reasonable people will disagree, AED47).


Mohalla Restaurant’s Lamb Chops, Buttery Prawns with Pistachio Pesto, Mughlai Parotha with Chilli Dressing and the delicious Rayalaseemsa Prawn Curry.
The chaat and small plates are my favourite end of the Mohalla playground. Occasionally you’ll find me picking through two or more of the chaat or small courses for a good feed at lunchtime. Price-wise, any eatery can be as expensive as you want, but Mohalla’s pricing starts noticeably lower than many of its ilk.
Generous mounds of avocado papdi chaat jewelled with pomegranate and sprightly chutneys (AED 32). The calamari koliwada stands out above its peer, the crispy calamari (AED 41) as a generous basket of judiciously-cooked squid in warming goda spices with chaat masala and a peanut Japanese Mayo (AED 71). The prawn pepper fry bolshy punch slaps. Plump prawns are precisely cooked and coated in black pepper sauce buttressed with potatoes, shallots and cherry tomatoes (AED 66). A simple, ripe tomato and peanut salad cools with its tamarind dressing (AED 35). There’s joy to be found in these dishes. And, there’s pani puri; deliciously explosive pani puri (AED 29)
Mohalla Restaurant’s Tomato and Peanut Salad with Tamarind Dressing, Crispy Calamari with Chillis, Shrimp Pepper Fry and Calamari Koliwada.
You could roll over at this point, but you’d miss out on mains like the joyous vindaloo lamb chops (AED 89). Deeply flavoured, tender lamb and scented with char. I’ve eaten inferior lamb chops in flashier places at higher prices. (I’d love to say where, but he’s a big-name chef in these parts and, well, you know.) The Rayalaseema prawn curry sports a duo of whole prawns wallowing in a fragrant broth of Andhra-style curry (AED 55). Mohalla capably cooks big and hefty as well as subtle, as this sauce is gentle and rich enough to use as an overnight face mask.
Does everything spark joy, Marie Kondo? Well-stacked rafts of ‘crispy’ mughlai parotha want texture and its nose-blast of chilli sauce may overwhelm some. The dish wants acid: a grilled lime or a chimichurri of sorts. There’s a balance question here as it’s all a bit soft and hot. The verdant butter prawns in a peanut pesto present Spanish lands flat overall (AED 66). Maybe a curry leaf or coriander oil? This is where I’ll be educated about biryanis. While the chicken biryani could feed an entire village plus the town next door, it lacks that steamy, pungent and fragrant waft that I so closely associate with my favourite biryanis (AED 72). The kulfi and falooda with mango isn’t my kind of dessert, as I wish the kulfi came alone (but reasonable people will disagree, AED47).
Mohalla Restaurant’s Lamb Chops, Buttery Prawns with Pistachio Pesto, Mughlai Parotha with Chilli Dressing and the delicious Rayalaseemsa Prawn Curry.
Mohalla Restaurant, Would I Come Back?
Mohalla is the restaurant I go to most often when I find myself in Dubai’s Design District. Other places exist but Design District’s other restaurants are things I can get anywhere else, so why hack out to Design District for the same old, same old? Maybe Mohalla should also set up a second location in Dubai Hills. It would certainly be closer.
Design District workers looking for a quick business lunch; Downtown, Business Bay and Meydan residents looking for casual dining. People curious about Indian food who are looking for an unpretentious host to show them around. People are looking to dine on a budget but still eat well.


Mohalla Restaurant’s Bbuttery Naans, Chicken Biryani, Pani Puri and their decorative plates around the restaurant.
Mohalla Restaurant, Who Should Come Here?
Design District workers looking for a quick business lunch; Downtown, Business Bay and Meydan residents looking for casual dining. People curious about Indian food who are looking for an unpretentious host to show them around. People are looking to dine on a budget but still eat well.
Mohalla Restaurant’s Bbuttery Naans, Chicken Biryani, Pani Puri and their decorative plates around the restaurant.
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