Designing Dhoom: Where Architecture Meets Appetite
Designing Dhoom: Where Architecture Meets Appetite
Designing Dhoom: Where Architecture Meets Appetite
Designing Dhoom: Where Architecture Meets Appetite
Designing Dhoom: Where Architecture Meets Appetite
Designing Dhoom: Where Architecture Meets Appetite
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025






When I first imagined this space, I wasn’t thinking about chandeliers or wallpaper. I was thinking about movement — how a guest would enter, pause, settle, and eventually transition from quiet brunch to vibrant bar.
Designing a restaurant that functions from sunlight to spotlight wasn’t just a visual challenge — it was an emotional one. Every corner needed to evolve as the day did. Natural textures, soft golds, deep shadows — all chosen to feel warm at brunch and magnetic at night.
We weren’t just building a restaurant. We were building a stage for elevated Indian dining — one that lets food, sound, and service perform without distraction. The goal was always clarity. The space couldn’t feel too ornamental. Every surface had to breathe. Every light source had to be deliberate. You’ll notice that nothing here shouts. It hums.
Toronto has an incredibly aware audience. People notice good design. They feel it. That’s why we worked with materials that resonate quietly: matte finishes, layered tones, and subtle contrasts that draw you in without demanding your attention. We let the food do that.
There’s one thing I obsess over: flow. I walk the floor constantly — not to check on things, but to feel them. Is there ease between tables? Can a couple sneak in for cocktails without disrupting a large table in full celebration? Does the lighting invite you to stay?
Most of the time, good design isn’t what you see. It’s what you don’t notice — because everything simply works.
That’s how we designed Dhoom.
When I first imagined this space, I wasn’t thinking about chandeliers or wallpaper. I was thinking about movement — how a guest would enter, pause, settle, and eventually transition from quiet brunch to vibrant bar.
Designing a restaurant that functions from sunlight to spotlight wasn’t just a visual challenge — it was an emotional one. Every corner needed to evolve as the day did. Natural textures, soft golds, deep shadows — all chosen to feel warm at brunch and magnetic at night.
We weren’t just building a restaurant. We were building a stage for elevated Indian dining — one that lets food, sound, and service perform without distraction. The goal was always clarity. The space couldn’t feel too ornamental. Every surface had to breathe. Every light source had to be deliberate. You’ll notice that nothing here shouts. It hums.
Toronto has an incredibly aware audience. People notice good design. They feel it. That’s why we worked with materials that resonate quietly: matte finishes, layered tones, and subtle contrasts that draw you in without demanding your attention. We let the food do that.
There’s one thing I obsess over: flow. I walk the floor constantly — not to check on things, but to feel them. Is there ease between tables? Can a couple sneak in for cocktails without disrupting a large table in full celebration? Does the lighting invite you to stay?
Most of the time, good design isn’t what you see. It’s what you don’t notice — because everything simply works.
That’s how we designed Dhoom.
When I first imagined this space, I wasn’t thinking about chandeliers or wallpaper. I was thinking about movement — how a guest would enter, pause, settle, and eventually transition from quiet brunch to vibrant bar.
Designing a restaurant that functions from sunlight to spotlight wasn’t just a visual challenge — it was an emotional one. Every corner needed to evolve as the day did. Natural textures, soft golds, deep shadows — all chosen to feel warm at brunch and magnetic at night.
We weren’t just building a restaurant. We were building a stage for elevated Indian dining — one that lets food, sound, and service perform without distraction. The goal was always clarity. The space couldn’t feel too ornamental. Every surface had to breathe. Every light source had to be deliberate. You’ll notice that nothing here shouts. It hums.
Toronto has an incredibly aware audience. People notice good design. They feel it. That’s why we worked with materials that resonate quietly: matte finishes, layered tones, and subtle contrasts that draw you in without demanding your attention. We let the food do that.
There’s one thing I obsess over: flow. I walk the floor constantly — not to check on things, but to feel them. Is there ease between tables? Can a couple sneak in for cocktails without disrupting a large table in full celebration? Does the lighting invite you to stay?
Most of the time, good design isn’t what you see. It’s what you don’t notice — because everything simply works.
That’s how we designed Dhoom.
When I first imagined this space, I wasn’t thinking about chandeliers or wallpaper. I was thinking about movement — how a guest would enter, pause, settle, and eventually transition from quiet brunch to vibrant bar.
Designing a restaurant that functions from sunlight to spotlight wasn’t just a visual challenge — it was an emotional one. Every corner needed to evolve as the day did. Natural textures, soft golds, deep shadows — all chosen to feel warm at brunch and magnetic at night.
We weren’t just building a restaurant. We were building a stage for elevated Indian dining — one that lets food, sound, and service perform without distraction. The goal was always clarity. The space couldn’t feel too ornamental. Every surface had to breathe. Every light source had to be deliberate. You’ll notice that nothing here shouts. It hums.
Toronto has an incredibly aware audience. People notice good design. They feel it. That’s why we worked with materials that resonate quietly: matte finishes, layered tones, and subtle contrasts that draw you in without demanding your attention. We let the food do that.
There’s one thing I obsess over: flow. I walk the floor constantly — not to check on things, but to feel them. Is there ease between tables? Can a couple sneak in for cocktails without disrupting a large table in full celebration? Does the lighting invite you to stay?
Most of the time, good design isn’t what you see. It’s what you don’t notice — because everything simply works.
That’s how we designed Dhoom.
When I first imagined this space, I wasn’t thinking about chandeliers or wallpaper. I was thinking about movement — how a guest would enter, pause, settle, and eventually transition from quiet brunch to vibrant bar.
Designing a restaurant that functions from sunlight to spotlight wasn’t just a visual challenge — it was an emotional one. Every corner needed to evolve as the day did. Natural textures, soft golds, deep shadows — all chosen to feel warm at brunch and magnetic at night.
We weren’t just building a restaurant. We were building a stage for elevated Indian dining — one that lets food, sound, and service perform without distraction. The goal was always clarity. The space couldn’t feel too ornamental. Every surface had to breathe. Every light source had to be deliberate. You’ll notice that nothing here shouts. It hums.
Toronto has an incredibly aware audience. People notice good design. They feel it. That’s why we worked with materials that resonate quietly: matte finishes, layered tones, and subtle contrasts that draw you in without demanding your attention. We let the food do that.
There’s one thing I obsess over: flow. I walk the floor constantly — not to check on things, but to feel them. Is there ease between tables? Can a couple sneak in for cocktails without disrupting a large table in full celebration? Does the lighting invite you to stay?
Most of the time, good design isn’t what you see. It’s what you don’t notice — because everything simply works.
That’s how we designed Dhoom.
When I first imagined this space, I wasn’t thinking about chandeliers or wallpaper. I was thinking about movement — how a guest would enter, pause, settle, and eventually transition from quiet brunch to vibrant bar.
Designing a restaurant that functions from sunlight to spotlight wasn’t just a visual challenge — it was an emotional one. Every corner needed to evolve as the day did. Natural textures, soft golds, deep shadows — all chosen to feel warm at brunch and magnetic at night.
We weren’t just building a restaurant. We were building a stage for elevated Indian dining — one that lets food, sound, and service perform without distraction. The goal was always clarity. The space couldn’t feel too ornamental. Every surface had to breathe. Every light source had to be deliberate. You’ll notice that nothing here shouts. It hums.
Toronto has an incredibly aware audience. People notice good design. They feel it. That’s why we worked with materials that resonate quietly: matte finishes, layered tones, and subtle contrasts that draw you in without demanding your attention. We let the food do that.
There’s one thing I obsess over: flow. I walk the floor constantly — not to check on things, but to feel them. Is there ease between tables? Can a couple sneak in for cocktails without disrupting a large table in full celebration? Does the lighting invite you to stay?
Most of the time, good design isn’t what you see. It’s what you don’t notice — because everything simply works.
That’s how we designed Dhoom.