At the heart of Dodicci is its namesake — dodicci, Italian for twelve — and once you know that, the whole place starts to read like a whodunnit. The idea behind it is that the establishment fashions itself as a house being inhabited by twelve residents, each with their own personality, taste and story, reflected through their collection of twelve signature cocktails. There's a touch of Cluedo about it, or an episode of Only Murders in the Building, as though each cocktail is a resident you're being introduced to piecemeal and at some point one might strike you, catch you off-guard and that would be that.
This theme, if anything, sets the tone for what turns out to be a new kind of European dining experience in Delhi — Italian at its core, but rustic in a burlesque, slightly wicked sort of way.
The room plays it as a burlesque medley — pop art rubbing shoulders with ornate Italian decor, a bust of David presiding over the room as if he'd been pocketed from a much grander palazzo, brass-framed mirrors catching the light, some with Italian phrases and collage posters on them, etched glass overhead. Even the crockery has a story, flown in from China, it only all adds up to the parodic aesthetic of the space that refuses a singular style to itself and looks like a moodboard from an Andy Warhol journal. Nothing here feels like it was chosen to match anything else, and that's rather the point — it has the accumulated, slightly chaotic charm of a dandy’s parlour, cultivated with zest and overstimulation of the beautiful and the sublime.
Dinner opened with the Parmesan Tapioca Sticks with red pepper jam and charcoal aioli. Following it was The Shrimp with Stuffed Jumbo Olives — a winner rather early on in the course — arrived next, the BBQ onion soubise and confit cherry tomatoes giving it a savoury depth. Then arrived the Fresh River Trout, finished with black garlic and a red pepper sauce, a lighter, cleaner plate by comparison — a sensible pause between richer courses. The Lamb Meatballs that followed the trout were a heartier, more classical affair, orzo and shiitake mushroom keeping things substantial. From the pizza oven, the Lamb Pepperoni came with confit garlic and mozzarella doing exactly what you'd want — a proper, no-nonsense pizza rather than an over-engineered one. The Pan-Seared Potato Gnocchi lingered around for the latter half of the feast, a hazelnut romesco with charred courgette and a parsley velouté that had genuine finesse to it.
For dessert we sat leisurely with Nonna's Chocolate Torte, salted caramel and dark chocolate ganache doing what good chocolate desserts should — nothing clever, just done properly — and the Dodicci Special Tiramisu, brought to the table and finished there with cocoa dusting and coffee sauce, a small piece of theatre that suited the room.
The cocktail list is where the twelve-resident conceit really earns its keep, each drink written as a character sketch in the menu before you even see the glass. Benito Brine, built on whiskey, gherkin, citrus and maple, is savoury and a little sly, more a bar snack than a dessert. Mia Sol, made with chamomile-infused gin, citrus and mandarin, is the easy-drinking counterpoint, floral and refreshing without trying too hard. Poppy Valentine takes vodka, lemongrass, green chilli and rosemary somewhere genuinely herbaceous, with a spiced kick that lingers. Marilyn Wilde — tequila, Campari, house vermouth, cherry bitters and a vegan foamer — is the most composed of the lot, bittersweet and faintly creamy, built for sipping rather than knocking back. And Margaret Bellamy, made with mozzarella-washed vodka, tomato water and a basil-oregano syrup, is the stiffest swing on the menu, savoury and umami-forward enough to double as a course in itself.
Dodicci doesn't try to be a strictly straight-up Italian restaurant. Deliberate flexibility remains at the core of the establishment. Just as it doesn't adhere to a single aesthetic in its décor, neither does it submit to one governing principle in its food and beverage, and it's better for it. The food holds on its own — the trout and the olive shrimp in particular are worth returning for — while the cocktail list gives the evening, and the whole space as a whole, its personality, quite literally. Above all, the service is impeccable without treading on your toes at every turn. If you’re passing by the diplomatic enclave of Chanakyapuri and wish to spend a bright hour in a space that is considerably less stiff-upper-lip than is usual in the area, you’d do well to swing by Dodicci.
Address: The Ashoka Hotel, Chanakyapuri, New Delhi
Timings: 12pm – 1am
Price for Two: Rs. 5,000 (approx., exclusive of taxes).