I grew up between two countries — India and the UAE — and found food to be an anchor when I felt like I was alien to either place. My upbringing was very north Indian, with meals at home being the usual dal-rice and sabzi-phulka. Meals outside of home were varied, and included north Indian fare like dal makhani or butter chicken with naan or lachha paratha (when they weren’t Chinese or pizza, or shawarma from street-style Arabic eating spots). On the odd occasion, my mum took me out for dosa. 

When I lived in Delhi, which was from the time I was born up until I was nine years old, south Indian food didn’t have much appeal for me. I accompanied my family on outings where everyone ordered dosa and although I ate without a fuss, it was never among my favourite things to eat. Moving to Dubai changed that, as my tastes developed and I began to enjoy more variety in food.

My mum and I often went out for lunch to Dasaprakash, a south Indian restaurant in the Bur Dubai neighbourhood. We ordered dosa and particularly enjoyed the dried, salted red chillies that were placed in a small bowl on every table. I lived in Dubai until I was 14, by when lunch at Dasaprakash had become a ritual, especially when I was in the area to attend after-school study lessons (or what the south Asian community knows as tuition). It became one of my first few introductions to dosa and I looked forward to subsequent visits.

Moving back to Delhi meant no Bur Dubai Dasaprakash, and we started to get our dosas at either Sagar Ratna in Defence Colony or Nathu’s in Bengali Market. Nathu’s was a five-minute walk from home and so eating there was a matter of convenience, whereas eating at Sagar Ratna meant making an occasion out of it. A few years later, Saravana Bhavan opened in Connaught Place and that became our go-to for dosa for a while. 

I started working at Time Out as the Food & Drink Editor in 2012 and, finding out about numerous new restaurants during my stint, heard of Naivedyam in Hauz Khas village. My first visit there had me coming back for more, almost every month. While the dosa at Naivedyam was good, the thali was even better. 

The dosas I had eaten until then had been choices between plain, masala and rava-onion. Delhi’s dosa scene changed when Carnatic Café opened in New Friend’s Colony. All of a sudden, there was everything from set dosa and neer dosa to bombat dosa and benne khali dosa. Carnatic Café’s menu offered dosas that were previously unheard of in Delhi, and the restaurant soon garnered a loyal fanbase. The Malleshwaram 18th Cross dosa, smeared on the inside with a white butter and dal masala and named after a bus station in Bengaluru, quickly became their bestseller. It’s a spicy, buttery, indulgent treat that will keep you reaching for your glass of water whilst being unapologetic about it.

Carnatic Café has since gone on to open branches in multiple neighbourhoods and also at both the International and Domestic Airport in Delhi. It has survived the COVID-19 period and word-of-mouth claims that the food isn’t as good as when the restaurant first opened. I’ve never had a mediocre meal at Carnatic Café and it remains my favourite place for dosa in the world, competing with the likes of Woodlands in London. Woodlands in Marylebone has now closed, but was around when I lived in London for a year to do my MA. I went often, during study breaks, craving hot, crisp dosa but frequently missing the Malleshwaram 18th Cross.

When I returned to Delhi after my MA, it was back to Carnatic Café for dosa cravings. It became hard to like dosa elsewhere, although I still got takeaway dosa from Nathu’s now and then because of its proximity to home. Fast-forward to three years later: I moved to Dublin.

I didn’t eat dosa in Dublin for a good while, until I accompanied a friend to eat dosa at a particular place that I won’t name. The dosa was disappointing to say the least, the sambar nearly inedible, and I made up my mind to never return. Then, in 2021, I discovered Iyer’s in Cork city. The dosa at Iyer's was thin, crisp, and folded into a triangle with something magical in it that made it one of the best dosas I had ever eaten. I became a loyalist as soon as I ate the dosa there, realising that Dublin was seriously missing out. My views on dosa in Dublin became public, drawing both intrigue and backlash. I realised that the topic of dosa was divisive in Ireland, funnily fuelled by white people’s opinions.

Indian Tiffins opened in Dublin on Parnell Street in October 2021, and I didn’t hear about or try it until early 2022. I realised that the restaurant was making a serious effort to serve dosa as it should be served. It became my go-to place for dosa for months, until the quality felt like it had become inconsistent. 

My search for good dosa in Dublin continued, with a visit to Cork here and there to eat at Iyer’s until it closed. Enter Andhra Bhavan, where I first ate in late 2023. My first experience of Dublin’s Andhra Bhavan was a home-delivered meal after I saw it up on Deliveroo. It impressed me greatly, and I went to the restaurant soon after. I was delighted to discover that the kitchen had a strong understanding of and principles around authenticity, also being the first to serve rava-onion dosa in Ireland. A Binge review (that the restaurant credits as being the one to make news of its opening blow up) went up swiftly, in which I claimed that Andhra Bhavan would iron out its few kinks very soon. This is true as of today, when Andhra Bhavan has become the best at dosa in Dublin. After its opening, new Indian restaurants serving dosa have cropped up and older ones have added dosa to their menus. 

Andhra Bhavan has completely changed Ireland’s dosa game. They opened a second branch on Abbey Street within a year of opening on Marlborough Street, and now have a restaurant in Belfast, too. I eat there at least once a month, and while I still miss the dosa competence of Carnatic Café and Iyer’s, there’s something to satisfy my cravings within reach.

My journey with dosa has been a lengthy one, starting off with not particularly enjoying it to considering it my go-to south Indian meal. I’m not a dosa expert by any means; just someone who loves it enough to write a tribute to places that taught me how to eat it, and eat it well. And if you ask me where the best dosa in the world is, I might just have an answer, although stricter dosa aficionados might know better.