The peak of an F&B writer’s privilege lies in the infinite PR-kissed invitations that offer exclusive access to the hottest, newest and some of the most luxurious spots in town. We find ourselves excitably fraught between both extremes of the F&B spectrum: one where the ceilings of restaurants are as tall (or perhaps not) as promised in PR press notes declaring the arrival of “bold” new flavours; and the other, where the space may not signal luxury at all, yet the flavour, the ingredients and the sheer love for cooking are evident from the moment you take the first bite. It is in this exclusive and intimate exposure that we form our perception of what makes a restaurant truly enjoyable, beyond the promise of flavour.
Often, our biases and role as critics force us to focus on places that come with shiny labels, logos, menus, and certain “aesthetics.” A curious obsession with selective aestheticism has seeped into our collective consciousness, luring and shaping our judgment and perception.
In fashion, when we attempt to decipher a collection, a garment, or anything a brand launches, we almost place the subject under a microscope to make sense of every motif, stitch, or curve. With this habit and philosophy, it felt natural for me to try and make sense of the spaces I dined in as well. In an age where restaurants in India are doing everything they can to not only live up to the esoteric and eclectic tastes of diners but also deliver a full 360-degree experience, their desire to shape—and control—the spatial narrative is both natural and predictable.
With rapid progress, globalisation, and greater Western influence in our country, our choices are not limited in any given situation or sector. Renowned interior designer Aayushi Malik agrees, “Today’s discerning and well-travelled customer seeks more than just good food & drinks, they value the experience as a whole,” she shares.
And to bring these experiences to life, design plays a vital role. When Malik was approached for Karan Johar’s latest restaurant, Oju, she knew they had to bring something far more thoughtful. Malik and her team thought of bringing something that imbued an oriental Japanese touch but differentiated itself in terms of the design language. They found inspiration from the Shibui concept that focuses on a certain kind of lived-in beauty.
When I first set foot in Oju, I was taken away by the detailed craft that lived in almost every corner of the space. “We introduced hand-painted landscape murals inspired by traditional Japanese art forms across the bathroom walls, rendered in subtle metallic tones to add depth and richness. In the main dining area, dome-shaped chandeliers were adorned with delicate, mural-inspired hand-painted details—transforming functional lighting into sculptural art pieces.”
While these aesthetic, Instagram-worthy corners were mesmerising, they did something to me on the psychological front: they moulded my perception before I even tasted the food. “Whether the goal is to stand apart or to belong within a certain dining culture, design gives physical form to that narrative. When done right, it engages multiple senses, shaping how guests perceive flavour, comfort, and atmosphere — often before they’ve even taken a bite,” states the interior designer.
When Malik and her team take on a new project, they begin by understanding who the space is for. One of her favourite examples of this approach is GK’s latest coffee hotspot, Libertario Coffee Roasters—a project rooted in studying the brand and shaping an interior language that reflects its vision, “We wanted to take this experience a step further and create a café that felt interactive, impactful, and immersive. The ambition was to bring a never-done-before coffee experience to Delhi, one that stood apart without relying on clichés.”, adds Malik.
While the response for Libertario Coffee Roasters has been overwhelming, and makes Malik’s heart filled with pride, there are often times when clients’ demands are “a little out of left field”, disrupting the balance between brand identity, focus and design. This balance, she believes, is the backbone of any meaningful space. A restaurant can have a distinct culinary philosophy or a beautifully crafted brand story, but if the interiors don’t echo that narrative, the experience loses its cohesion. The space may still look impressive, but it fails to feel like the brand. And in hospitality, that feeling is everything.
When interior design and brand philosophy are aligned, the space becomes an extension of the brand’s personality—each material, colour, and spatial decision working together to reinforce a singular message. The design doesn’t merely decorate; it communicates. It shapes behaviour, sets the tone, and anchors the brand in the guest’s memory.
Malik has spent over a decade in the industry, working across restaurant, commercial, and residential projects. In an age where originality is constantly questioned, she draws inspiration from travel, everyday life, and the content she consumes—allowing her work to evolve while staying grounded in intention. For her, the goal is always for the space and the brand to move in parallel: distinct yet aligned, each reinforcing the other’s personality.
And nowhere is this harmony more essential than in restaurants. Here, design doesn’t simply frame the experience—it shapes it. The interior becomes the first point of connection, setting expectations long before the food arrives.
Thoughtful design, therefore, is the most elusive ingredient of all: unseen yet indispensable, powerful yet quiet. It heightens the meal, steadies the atmosphere, and transforms the simple act of eating into an experience worthy of return. A restaurant may serve food, but only a well-crafted space serves emotion.
