Kimikai

It’s a known fact that every opening in Horizon Plaza on Gurgaon’s Golf Course Road comes with a certain price tag. You walk in already prepared for it. There’s also the other reality: restaurants here don’t always last. The spaces are swanky, the ambition evident, but not always matched by crowds. And with rents like these, well… it's a very tough game.

Kimikai – Umami House (the team is clear about not wanting to be boxed into the ‘pan-Asian’ label) now takes over what used to be Ping’s Bia Hoi, one of the handful of spots I genuinely liked in Gurugram. So yes, expectations were automatically higher, even though I tried (and failed) to stay unbiased.

Unlike most places here (glass façades and in-your-face signage) this one plays it low-key. From the outside, it feels like someone’s private space, but then again, this is Gurugram: exclusivity is the point. The more deliberately discreet it feels, the better the bragging rights. 

Before I get to the dining room, a staff member points me to the alfresco. There’s a mix of high and low seating plus plenty of plants, which she calls Kimikai’s garden.

Up until that point, I had assumed the name was just another pan-Asian filler you dress up later with a backstory. Turns out, Kimikai is a full-blown mythical vixen, and this is her territory. Well, well, well. I have… mixed feelings.

Inside, it’s a fairly large space, and the storytelling hits hard. I’m told this is Kimikai’s ‘house’. It's a wooden-dominated space with mirrors, artefacts, artworks, even her bathrobe in the washroom. By now, I’m impatient to understand why she’s the muse. Restaurants leaning on fictional personas aren’t new – Lord Vesper and Madam Chow in Gurgaon have done it too – but here, I expect a stronger hook.

Kimikai, apparently, is an opium trader masquerading as a spice merchant along the Silk Route. The space leans heavily into it: poppy motifs on wallpapers, napkins and almost every surface. There’s even a small statue of her, just in case you missed it. At some point, the detailing starts to feel insistent.

Anyway, I move to the menu before passing judgment. Chef Ruhani Singh (who has previously worked with Zuma Dubai) keeps things refreshingly fuss-free. The Tomato Carpaccio with ginger dressing, babu arare, and roasted sesame is tart and surprisingly satisfying – a proper banger of a vegetarian dish. Even the edamame gets an upgrade here, with truffle oil and smoked kombu. The bar is set high, which makes the lamb and parmesan brioche a letdown. Nothing wrong with the topping, but the bread lacks crunch.

The bar programme, in collaboration with Pass Code Hospitality, sounds promising, especially as a PCO regular. I start light with Faux-y (rum, lime cordial, banana, avocado, almond milk), which is smoothie-like but works. My companion goes for the Black Pelt, a whisky cocktail with pandan and yuzu.

With drinks, you want something crunchy, and the rice paper tacos with chicken deliver — spicy and hard to stop at one. The team nudges us to try more cocktails; we hesitate (it’s a Thursday), but it doesn’t take much convincing.

This round redeems itself. The Paper Wing, their take on a Picante, with sweet vermouth and orange bitters, is well balanced, without setting your mouth on fire. The Plum Poison – plum, cold brew, peanut butter, condensed milk – drinks like a milder espresso martini. I call it dessert, especially since it comes with banana bread and in-house plum jam, though the team disagrees.

Two hours in, the bartender has already warned us thrice to save space for Silk Loot, their three-course cocktail tasting menu. It’s not something I’ve come across before, so I’m intrigued, but not before lining my stomach with mains.

The Black Cod arrives and nearly steals the show – easily one of the best I’ve had in the city, with a citrus miso glaze that does all the heavy lifting. We’re already stuffed, but a small portion of Gulai Ayam curry with prawns follows. Creamy and coconutty, yes, but paired with basmati rice, which feels like a miss.

We brace ourselves for Silk Loot alongside the Pineapple Express dessert – layers of pineapple, cream, and crumble that are excellent. The drinks, though, fall flat, barring the first. Crush, a gin cocktail with gherkin brine, stands out. The rest don’t quite land: Roll (myoga brine and chardonnay) feels mismatched, while Smoke (maraschino and gherkin brine) is too briney.

All said, the food at Kimikai often lives up to (and sometimes, surpasses) the legacy of its predecessor. The cocktails, while ambitious, veer into gimmicky territory. And even if I’m not entirely sold on the storytelling, the décor is inviting enough to make you want to stay.

The vibe: Polished with an air of exclusivity. Date-night friendly, though the storytelling tries a bit too hard to set the mood.

The food: Surprisingly strong. Small plates and the Black Cod stand out — flavour-forward, and often better than expected.

The drinks: Ambitious to a fault. Some hits (especially the Picante riff), but a few drift into overly experimental, borderline gimmicky territory.

Time Out tip: Skip the cocktail tasting menu. Order à la carte and sit in the alfresco.