On 16th December, the Smart Supper Club took a culinary detour to Kricket in Brixton. Tucked beneath the arches of Brixton’s bustling Atlantic Road, it’s a location that demands all your senses. The air is thick with the hum of butchers and fishmongers, their open-fronted stalls spilling onto the street. Nearby, Brixton Village Market buzzes with life, a chaotic patchwork of independent eateries and traders. It’s gritty, vibrant, unapologetically alive—a fitting backdrop for a restaurant that’s rewriting the rules of Indian cuisine.
We chose Kricket for this particular evening as a counterpoint to our October rendezvous at Rambutan, where Sri Lankan flavours took centre stage. Indian and Sri Lankan cuisines share deep histories, intertwined with ancient spices, bold techniques, and culinary poetry. Yet, like two siblings with distinct personalities, they stand apart. Indian food—a kaleidoscope of colours and unapologetically bold flavours—boasts diversity that mirrors the vastness of the subcontinent. Kricket honours this heritage but bends it to its will, creating a modern expression that’s both familiar and surprising.
The night began at the bar overlooking the open kitchen. It’s the kind of space where the clink of glasses mixes with the hiss of pans, the sharp tang of citrus meeting the earthy warmth of spices. Cocktails appeared—spiced rum and smoky Mezcal—alongside the first bite of the night: tomato rasam pan puri. A single, perfect mouthful. Delicate, fiery, and fleeting—it set the tone for what was to come.
Seated at a communal table in the heart of the dining room, we surrendered to the expertise of Kricket’s team. Plates began to arrive, each one a small masterpiece. The bhel puri—a nostalgic dish reimagined with raw mango, coriander chutney, and yoghurt—was a study in contrasts: crunchy, tangy, fresh. Samphire pakoras, crisp and golden, dipped in tamarind chutney and chilli garlic mayo, were gone as soon as they hit the table.
Then came the mains, and Kricket’s brilliance truly unfolded. Recheado butter prawns arrived first, glistening with spice and char, the marinade packing just enough heat to keep things interesting. The Keralan fried chicken, crisp yet tender, carried the unmistakable warmth of aromatic spices. But the star of the show? A whole grilled sea bream, swimming in a fragrant Keralan fish curry. The flavours were layered—spicy, sour, herbaceous—each bite transporting you to the backwaters of Kerala.
The dishes came family-style, plates jostling for space between candles and wine glasses. It was chaos in the best way—hands reaching, laughter rising, every dish a shared experience. Dessert was a casualty of indulgence—no room left—but no one was complaining.
Kricket is the kind of place that stays with you. It’s not just the food, although that alone is enough. It’s the spirit of the place—the energy of the open kitchen, the unapologetic confidence of the dishes, and the buzz of Brixton outside the door.
To Kricket, thank you for hosting us and for the inspiration. And to our Supper Club guests, you were, as always, the perfect finishing touch to a night well spent.