For as long as we can remember, India and much of the world, has been captivated by royalty and their ways. There’s something irresistible about their lives: the opulence, the quirks, the rituals, the sheer theatricality of it all.
Their feasts, their follies, their secret traditions, and their wildly imaginative dining customs have always made for the most delicious stories. And now, in Lower Parel’s Phoenix Mills, one restaurant gathers these tales under a single roof.
The Silver Train takes its name from a legendary maharaja who adored locomotives so much that he commissioned a miniature train cast entirely in gleaming silver to serve food around his palace dining table. It would circle the room, its tiny carriages delivering dishes to delighted guests. It made for an edible spectacle that blended whimsy with grandeur. That very sense of playful indulgence forms the soul of this new Mumbai spot, where royal history isremembered revived, and served.
Walking into The Silver Train feels like stepping into a fever dream of royal India. It’s not the stiff, gilded kind, but the more fun, mischievous, slightly eccentric side of it. Silver rail tracks snake across the floors. Light bounces off chandeliers. Tropical murals soften ornate columns. A Sabyasachi olive-green wallpaper glows quietly in the background.
Designer Sumessh Menon Associates has created a space that feels both cinematic and comforting, like the “cool wing” of a palace where musicians rehearsed, courtiers whispered secrets, and the maharaja’s pet panther probably had a favourite sunlit corner.
As Founder Shravan Juvvadi puts it, he envisioned the space as the home of a “new-age maharaja” who’s travelled the world, returned with fresh ideas, and now fills his palace with stories, art, and spirited conversation.
One of the things we loved was the wall with photographs. Unlike stiff portraits or predictable palace memorabilia, these were quirky, moments frozen in time. For example, one shows a maharaja who spent an absurdly lavish sum on his dog’s wedding and even invited the Viceroy to attend. And if, like us, you find yourself lingering in front of them a little too long, just ask a staff member. They know every tale and will happily turn each picture into a vivid anecdote.
The Silver Train is steered by two powerful, complementary forces. Chef Anuradha Joshi Medhora, whose storytelling adds the sparkle to The Silver Train experience the founder of Charoli Foods. She grew up in Indore and spent over a decade travelling through princely states, digging into palace archives, handwritten ledgers, and oral histories. This scholarship that now comes alive in her first restaurant, where she partnered with Shravan Juvvadi, the force behind Hyderabad’s cult favourite Tabula Rasa.
Shravan didn’t want to recreate history. He wanted to make it move again. “History shouldn’t be behind glass,” he says. “It should arrive on your plate or in your glass.”
And it does. Every dish comes from a princely state. There’s a common misconception that “royal Indian cuisine” begins and ends in Rajasthan and that all curries are rich and ghee-laden India’s royal tables were far more diverse, shaped by geography, climate, trade routes, and its rulers.
The Silver Train embraces this broader, far more intriguing truth. You’ll find dishes from the Bhonsle kitchens of Nagpur, where humble apple gourd was elevated into a seasonal delicacy; from Tripura, where the soft, fragrant Maami rice once graced princely banquets; from Jammu’s Dogra kingdom, where the comforting Kokar Kofta was crafted for chilly winters; and from Rampur, known for its legendary, slow-simmered maash ki dal.
At the heart of the menu is a Silver Thali, a seven-day rotating feast. One day you might encounter the slow-cooked comfort of Rampur, the next the saatvik subtlety of Baroda, or the bright, unexpected flavours of the North-East.
The dishes come with stories, some wild, all wonderfully specific. There’s the Ande ka Halwa, born when Nawab Wajid Ali Shah’s egg-averse princes forced his chefs into sweet deception, folding eggs into khoya and saffron so cleverly that the Nawab joked his cooks were better liars than his poets.
Another one is the Bennami Kheer, the Mughal marvel created when Jahangir’s hakims prescribed garlic for his stomach, leading chefs to boil the cloves thrice in milk until they disappeared into a silken kheer that delighted the emperor.
Then there’s Kaleji ka Raita, once served in Jaipur after the Maharaja’s hunts to give strength to tired courtiers and revive them with cool yogurt and mustard. Alongside these tales, our table travelled across kingdoms and kitchens.
Some of our favourites included the Makkai Akhrot ke Kebab, a nutty, delicate bite that tasted like winter evenings in a noble household; Chanar Paturi, that mustard-wrapped wonder from Bengal’s zamindari kitchens; Tripura Maach Peetha, soft, comforting, and quietly regal, the smoky Mewari Maas ke Sule and the Dogra Chicken Kofta from Jammu. We mopped it all up with the airy Naan-e-Jeera.
And then come the desserts, each one with its own personality. The Curious Kalakand arrives first familiar in form but laced with unexpected flavours of orange, betel leaf, and a delicate brandy snap. It tastes like a classic that wandered off into a royal garden and returned perfumed and playful.
The Pista Kulfi Dubki follows, a nostalgic plunge into childhood: a pistachio and white chocolate shell dusted with sea salt, taking us straight back to those homemade kulfis set in metal moulds packed with salt to freeze faster.
Curated by Elevenses Hospitality (Nikhil Merchant and Zamir Khan), the beverage menu mirrors the restaurant’s historical curiosity but with a modern, sexy finish.
The Silver Bar may not be fully unveiled yet, but its zero-proof and sherbat-led menu already hints at the world it’s building. For now, the focus is on Drytales, their inventive zero-proof cocktails that prove you don’t need alcohol to feel indulgent, and on the sherbets that offer a gentle nod to the subcontinent’s earliest drinking traditions.
Our picks were the Spice Bazaar, a mix of clove, kokum, ginger, and mint leaves and followed it with the Jamun Royale, built on zero-proof gin shaken with jamun, lime, and a hit of black salt, that tasted like a monsoon memory that decided to dress up for a night out.
We love the idea of the rotating Silver Thali, how every dish arrives with an origin story and the Ek. Do. Chaar. menu format that lets you choose dishes sized for one, two, or four, turning the entire experience into a kind of culinary choose-your-own-adventure that takes the pressure out of ordering and makes room for curiosity, spontaneity, and shared discovery.
