Smoke + Lime Supper Club, London

Having a home-cooked meal is rare, especially if one lives a fast-paced life. Working long hours with long commutes, finding the time and energy to have dinner with friends or family, and the convenience of food delivery apps—where options are plentiful—often take over. In the back of our minds, we know it doesn’t provide the nutritional value we need daily or come made with love and care, but it does the job of sustaining us.

Like some, I enjoy the process and truly appreciate a home-cooked meal, but where does one go if they want the same thing yet, in some ways, lack the skills?
A supper club would be the next best thing.

There has been a surprising rise in supper clubs popping up all over London, though one stands out among the themed fixed menus that always seem to offer a smoked fish starter and glasses of lukewarm wine.

In comes Sohini Banerjee, founder of the Smoke & Lime supper club. An OG supper club host and London-based chef specialising in Bengali cuisine, she celebrates her culture and roots. Her cooking is zero-waste and entirely seasonal, with dishes inspired by past travels and fond memories.

With Patty’s top-notch organising, ten of us were invited over to Sohini’s home, where she and her husband, Rijul, welcomed us warmly - and boy, the smell was enticing. We were hungry.

Rijul began with a brief introduction and the history of the supper club, rooted in family dinners and shared memories. For someone who works full-time for the NHS - and likely hadn’t been home for long - he had a natural ease about him, effortlessly working the room and keeping us engaged with his stories. His words spoke volumes about the love and care he has for his wife and her business, something I noticed immediately and found quite rare these days. It was truly lovely to witness.

But enough faffing from me just because I am a hopeless romantic, let's get to it -

We began with Phuchka—a Kolkata street snack and a variant of my forever love, pani puri. Inspired by a street vendor outside her family home, Sohini shared that when the vendor's uncle heard she recreated this at her dinners, he found it amusing. Crispy wheat and semolina shells were filled with an earthy yet moreish mixture of potatoes, chickpeas, and black chana, paired with spicy, tangy water made from tamarind paste, citrus juice (either lime or lemon), salt, cumin, and chilli powder. We walked up in groups of four to her counter, where Sohini personally assembled each one and served them on cute little plates. Spicy, tangy, and crispy—it was fun, interactive, and I was obsessed.

Next was the chicken liver larb with herbs and peach. I’m not usually a fan of offal due to texture and, at times, the gamey taste; however, this was genuinely good. You could still tell it was liver—but only just—especially with the mix of fresh herbs, peaches, and toasted rice, it melded well. It was savoury, slightly sweet, and herbaceous, with a kick from Sohini’s homemade chilli concoction. It was so delicious, I had two plates’ worth.

One of my favourite bites of the night was the Schezwan prawns with sambal butter—unbelievably moreish and, of course, meant to be peeled and eaten with our hands. Saucy and savoury, surprisingly not spicy, with a natural sweetness from the prawns and peppers. I peeled the shells and generously lathered the prawns in sauce—it was delicious. Some people ate the shells too, but I’m not quite there yet.

For the vegetable dishes, the pumpkin bhourta, pickled mooli, and winter vegetable chochori were complex yet surprising in flavour. The bhourta was savoury but sharp, with a bitter zing—expected when using winter vegetables. The chochori was mild and earthy, with a slight kick from mustard. Flavours I wasn’t expecting but really enjoyed, especially when eaten with rice.

I really enjoyed the turmeric, galangal, and wild seabass—though I do love most pan-fried fish dishes. The colour was vivid, giving “I HAVE FLAVOUR!” energy, yet the taste was delicately mellow. You could still taste the seabass’s natural sweetness, buttery and flaky, with plenty of fresh dill and mustard added (which I love) to enhance the flavour. I was in love, and it paired beautifully with rice.

I’m not a huge fan of cardamom, but I am a huge fan of panna cotta—and this cardamom panna cotta with cocoa and saffron was out of this world. Not too sweet, the cardamom was subtle yet fragrant, and the cocoa sauce was dark and rich. It was unbelievable.

As we said goodbye and left her home with tummies full and hearts warm, it felt like more than just a dinner had taken place. It was an evening rooted in stories, memories, and generosity—food cooked with intention and shared in the most intimate way possible. In a city that often feels rushed and impersonal, Sohini’s table reminded us of the quiet power of slowing down, eating together, and being present. The kind of night that lingers with you long after—not just for food and the company, but for how deeply seen, nourished, and connected we all felt.