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Nihari on toast sounds like the sort of brilliant midnight snack that could easily be born in a college dorm in Agra. At Room 304, it’s this spirit of youthful improvisation of three college buddies – Sachin, Himkar and Kabir – that runs through the menu. The drinks and food lean into lived-in moments: there are memories here of tequila without mixers, rescued by the city’s trusted chaat stalls and their tangy gol gappa pani.
It’s mostly rooted in a time when these guys inhabited – you guessed it – Room 304, during their undergraduate years in Agra. Nostalgic, yes, and slightly chaotic.
The first clue that this place doesn’t take itself too seriously arrives before you even walk in. Step out of the elevator and you’re faced with five identical doors, all marked 304. Naturally, everyone pauses for a second, wondering if this is a bar or the beginning of an escape room. I’ll avoid spoilers, but once you figure out the correct entrance, the rest of the evening unfolds like a charming college memory – with better drinks.
Barely 30 people can fit in here, and that’s intentional. While we waited for our table, resident DJ Ananya, spinning retro vinyl, got into a chat with us the way someone hosts friends at home, rather than customers at a bar.
The idea for Room 304 apparently solidified after the founders visited a listening room in Bengaluru, so music here matters too. One particularly loud group on the evening when we were there nearly entirely derailed the vibe with an aggressive game of Heads Up, and it’s to Room 304’s credit that the bar wasn’t overshadowed. Thursdays lean rock, Sundays retro, Tuesdays disco, and there are plans for vinyl workshops where enthusiasts can bring their own records or simply learn how turntables work.
As we settle on our bar stools, it’s fun to flip through the menu. Every dish and cocktail has a backstory – mentors, relatives, drunken experiments, hostel food hacks – and Kabir, the man behind much of the food program, narrates them with the enthusiasm of someone who holds these memories like they’re gold. His aunt’s khakra inspired a dish. Hemkar’s mentor with a hard exterior inspired a Negroni riff. And Sachin is the mad scientist playing with tinctures and tipple to create the final offerings, each with a ‘heart, brain and soul’, as described in the menu.
The food and drinks
We start with a cocktail called Sadar Bazaar, which the menu cheekily describes as ‘acidity, but refined’; this is the aforementioned tequila meets gol gappa pani in the most sophisticated way possible. Tamarind cordial, raw mango, chilli-ginger tincture and clarified gol gappa water become a spicy, tangy cocktail that tastes like Delhi street food cleaned up nicely for a night out. Bonus points for the tamarind foam that refuses to disappear before your third sip.
RDX, a boozy Negroni-style cocktail inspired by one of their mentors, apparently known for not being particularly soft. Made with Campari, bourbon washed in black garlic parmesan butter, house-made vermouth and oxidised wine concentrate, it sounds complicated on paper but works beautifully – bitter, citrusy, but smooth.
The food follows a similar philosophy: Nihari on toast sounds exactly like something hungry college kids would invent at 2 am with limited resources, but here, it’s oomphed up with unabashed confidence. It arrives topped with crispy onions and a squeeze of chilli lime. The cold baingan chokha with khakra works as their version of chips and dip – smoky, chilled, textured and sharp with mustard oil.
Then comes the magical galauti; I bet you’d never guess that this one’s entirely vegetarian. And if I told you the vegetables, there are even more chances of you not believing me – it was a bit hard for me to trust Kabir, the story teller, when he laughed and said that this galauti is made of lauki, tori and yam! It’s rich, soft, deeply spiced and probably one of the smartest things on the menu. Japanese dahi puri, meanwhile, mostly borrows wasabi for dramatic effect and can safely be skipped if your table space is limited.
Chef Rajeev’s fried chicken curry, however, deserves your full attention. Rustic fried chicken pieces swimming in a velvety curry with sweet korma-like notes, mopped up with buttered pao.
The rest of the menu leans into this same chaotic-good energy: dal makhni nachos, guacamole sev puri, hari mirch mac and cheese. Underneath all the seemingly gimmicky combinations is genuine affection for Indian flavours and memories.
Room 304 is a refreshing spot on Delhi’s sometimes overly slick bar scene. In the age of copy-paste cocktail bars with identical menus, this place feels personal. There are no dramatic house rules and no intimidating door policy. Apart from booking ahead and remembering they’re shut Mondays, the philosophy is essentially come-as-you-are.
Time Out tip: Ask for a seat at the bar or near the DJ console.
Reservations: Mandatory. Reserve your seats via @drinksat304 on Instagram.
Address: Room 304 prefers to stay hidden somewhere deep inside Greater Kailash I market. You'll have to contact them directly to figure out how to get there.