Is it even a thaal if it’s not a 56-dish thaal?

If you’re visiting the Fairmont Udaipur Palace, the newest palace hotel to open this year, in July, make damn sure your phone is fully charged. Because the moment you walk into that stunning reception and lay eyes on the magnificent chandelier looming from its royal blue and gold domed ceiling, you’ll be hit with a desperate, desperate urge to start taking pictures. And that urge doesn’t go away till you pack your bags and leave.

Located just 15 minutes from Udaipur’s city centre, the hotel has a 360-degree view of the surrounding Aravallis. The facade may remind you of the City Palace, an Udaipur landmark, but inside there’s much to document—from the twinkling thikri inlay work on the walls, to the sun-drenched courtyards and the ornate marble pillars carved by artisans from the Pindwara region of Rajasthan.

Stretching out under the reception is Mehfil, a regal open-air courtyard with a glorious infinity pool flanked by juicy magenta deck chairs and hand-carved white marble chhatris, all framed by the unusually lush, rain-washed Aravalli hills. And not too far, the Ivory Pool & Gardens, made for wedding pool parties and complete with Amalfi-yellow chairs on the deck, a DJ-ready setup, and blue-green tilework that lend the water a Phuket-like shade of turquoise.

Those above public pool life (though you won’t be after seeing these) can opt for one of the 43 rooms or suites with their own plunge pool. Mine came with a wardrobe that could fit an entire Mumbai apartment, a very plush bed, and personalised monogrammed napkins. And there was the most magical little swing—perfect for pondering every life choice.

So, let’s just say, my phone was working overtime. I couldn’t even put it down at the spa! Before you come at me, it was the most expansive spa I’ve ever seen (12,000 sqft, if you include the gym). Inside, on each table, were delicious-looking oils in tiny glass bottles, which Charu Lal, director of Spa & Wellness, told me she made herself. On her recommendation, I opted for a part Renaissance (Signature Treatment), part Sweet Serenity (Bamboo Massage). The bamboo oil smelt like a citrusy dream, and the pressure was so on-point that I almost cried when it was over.

After sauntering down the corridors, I arrived at the hotel bar, Dahaad, for some cocktails and bar bites. The hotel’s big on food, with eight dining concepts to choose from. (I had started my day with breakfast at Bahaar, before trying a dreamy Asian cookout at Dastaan, the hotel’s lounge, which looks like a cosy living room with its blue walls, mustard sofas, and coffee-table books.) In the coming months, a new Asian bistro, called Celesta, and a Mediterranean eatery, Alchemist, will open.

Everything here seems extra. And the decadence is deliberate—the hotel is designed to host the big, fat Indian wedding in all its glory. Think over 1,40,000 sqft of indoor-outdoor spaces that feature grand ballrooms (the Udai Mahal is said to be the biggest in Rajasthan), manicured lawns, sweeping terraces, and even a dramatic stepwell replica, perfect for that photo-op. With 311 out of its 327 rooms currently operational, it’s the kind of space where your extended family is also invited. And the pickle and padel courts? Perfect family bonding experiences.

But I digress. As I walked into Dahaad, surprise, surprise—everyone was taking pictures. The subject? A life-sized brass sculpture of a leopard perched on a dramatic, back-lit onyx bar. Even the patterns on the marble eerily mimic a leopard’s spots. The leopard is clearly the mascot of this hotel, and you will encounter the big cat in many corners—as sculptures, artworks, and motifs dotting the place. This is just one of the ways the hotel pays homage to the 60 tagged leopards that rule the Aravallis surrounding it. But this much-photographed piece is special. “Before the Palace was built, Dahaad was one of the highest spots here, with just a Sintex water tank. Leopards from the surrounding hills would often come here to drink water. That memory stayed with us, and we felt it was only fitting to dedicate this space to the leopard,” says Swati Agarwal, director, Rockwood Hotels & Resorts.

Since it was my first visit to Rajasthan, the hotel also arranged a quick sightseeing tour of Udaipur so I could properly ooh and aah at the lake and City Palace. The excursions are fun, even if you’re not a first-timer—the sunset at Sajjangarh (Udaipur’s monsoon palace) or the morning jeep trail through the Aravallis, complete with a very chic streamside picnic. By now, my photo gallery was full, and I vowed to try living in the moment—though that felt unlikely, given I was going to try my first royal Rajasthani thaal. Turns out, I manifested exactly that.

Our group of nine settled at a large circular table at the Sheesh Mahal, a spacious room with many crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, which serves as a reception area for The Jewel ballroom. A golden thaal, with six empty katoris, was placed in front, waiting to be filled. Suddenly, like a Bollywood movie scene, the doors flung open and booming dhol and nagada music filled the room. Six men entered, four holding a blue canopy, while two of them carried a thaal big enough to feed an army. They glided toward our table and slowly lowered the thaal as the music reached its dramatic crescendo. Then, with a perfectly timed flourish, they spun it around so we could take it all in—over 50 katoris, each filled with dishes arranged in perfect patterns, with bowls of white rice and ghee-glossed rotis tucked in between—all prepared by chef Sahil Sharma and his incredible team.

I started with the Mewari kachar murgh, Rajputana kheeri nalli, and Rajputana gosht ki kabuli. The vegetarian options also offered a subtle introduction to the local cuisine. Matera hara pyaaz, a dish where watermelon is cooked with spring onion, was refreshing and pretty much what my sweet-savoury dreams are made of. By this point, I was in that state we call food coma, but I had to wiggle some room for dessert before retiring for the day. First came an orange kulfi wrapped inside an actual orange peel, then some mohanthal kurchan mithai, and, last, my favourite, the Paan Truffle—a cooling, zingy kick of paan wrapped in creamy dark chocolate.

There’s no proof of the pudding or the eating, though. Our phones, at last, lay forgotten.