The first question we get is almost never about the food. It’s “hang on — is that tree real?”
People notice it before they’ve even taken their coats off. Kids point at it. Someone always reaches up to touch a blossom on the way to their table. We’ve watched entire first dates start with it, which is more than we can say for the wine list.
So let’s get the honest bit out of the way: no, it isn’t real. Real cherry blossom lasts about a week, and we needed ours to see people through a good few winters in Sevenoaks. But the reason it’s there is very real, and it’s the thing we thought about longest before we opened.
Why blossom, of all things
In a lot of places, blossom means something that doesn’t last — you get a couple of weeks a year, and everyone quietly agrees to drop what they’re doing and go and sit under it. We liked that. We wanted a table here to feel a little like that: you look up, you slow down, and whatever kind of week you’ve had sort of loosens its grip on your shoulders.
The rest of the room came from the same instinct. Most Indian restaurants go bright and red, and there’s nothing wrong with that — but we wanted evening. So we went the other way: deep navy, warm gold, brass lamps low over the tables, candles rather than spotlights. Less “quick curry”, more “let’s make a night of it”.
A room should set the scene before the first plate ever arrives.
We didn’t design it for photographs, but we’d be lying if we said we minded them. People look up, they linger, they order one more round than they meant to. That’s honestly the best review we could ask for.
Our name, Qissa, means a tale. And every good tale needs a setting before anything actually happens. The tree is ours. Come and sit under it — we saved you a spot.
— The Qissa kitchen