Stepping off Lower Richmond Road into Chook Chook in Putney feels like boarding an Indian railway carriage – and from the moment I slid into the emerald-green banquette, I was all aboard for an immersive journey. The décor is both thoughtful and slightly theatrical: dark wood panelling, vintage-style lamps casting a soft amber glow, brushed brass fittings, and polished copper accents all conspire to evoke the golden age of train travel. The booths, with their high sides and plush cushioning, offer a cocoon of privacy, so you feel tucked away from the bustle even on a busy evening.
The Flavours of India at Chook Chook
Menus arrive promptly, printed in a style that hints at old-world timetables. I began with a plate of Pav Bhaji, which arrived piping hot, the aroma alone enough to make me impatient. The pillowy bread rolls – lightly toasted, butter-brushed to a glisten – were the perfect vessel for the thick, deeply spiced vegetable mash. The bhaji itself had a comforting weight to it: creamy yet textured, tomato-rich but lifted by the brightness of fresh coriander and a whisper of garam masala.
My main course was the Old Delhi Butter Chicken, and if the Pav Bhaji had been an opening act, this was the star performer. The sauce had a rich tomato base, softened with butter to create that silky mouthfeel which defines a good butter chicken. Spices were present but not brash – cumin and fenugreek lending warmth, a touch of chilli offering a slow-burning background heat. The chicken itself had clearly spent time in the tandoor, retaining a light smokiness that kept the dish from tipping into pure creaminess. It was indulgent, yes, but in a way that felt measured rather than overwhelming.
No self-respecting curry should arrive without its carbohydrate counterpart, and the Garlic Naan proved to be more than a mere sidekick. Served warm enough to send up a curl of steam, it was generously dotted with golden-brown slivers of garlic, the surface gleaming with butter. Pulling off a piece revealed that perfect balance of softness and chew, the kind that almost insists you keep dipping back into the sauce until the plate is clean.
Service here deserves mention. Our server moved with the kind of timing you only notice when it’s right – water glasses refilled without a word, dishes delivered with a brief but engaging description, and empty plates whisked away just as I was ready for the next course. There’s an element of theatre to the presentation: copper serving dishes arriving in neat formation, like train carriages pulling into a station.
Why Chook Chook is Worth the Journey
What sets Chook Chook apart isn’t simply the quality of the cooking or the novelty of its theme – it’s the way the two are woven together. The railway motif never feels like a gimmick; rather, it enriches the meal, encouraging you to lean into the fantasy of travel. At moments, I caught myself imagining the sway of the train as the dining room’s quiet hum wrapped around me, the warm lighting and muted chatter creating the illusion of movement.
The three dishes I’d chosen – Pav Bhaji, Butter Chicken, Garlic Naan – each carried its own charm but together made for a satisfying arc, from hearty street-food comfort through to classic North Indian indulgence. The portions are generous without being excessive, and the balance of flavours shows a confidence in the kitchen’s execution.
Price-wise, Chook Chook sits comfortably in the mid-££ range, representing solid value for the quality of ingredients and the care in presentation. You leave feeling you’ve paid for an experience rather than just a meal – and, importantly, one you’d gladly repeat.
I stepped back out onto the street with the contentment that comes from being well-fed in every sense – belly, eyes, and imagination. Chook Chook is more than just another Indian restaurant; it’s a ticket to a slower, more romantic mode of dining. If you’re after a curry served with warmth, storytelling, and a hint of wanderlust, consider this your first-class carriage.
