Restaurant merch is the new band tee

Remember when the American casual-dining chain Olive Garden dropped those pasta-shaped pool floats and the Internet lost its mind?

Now, I’m not in suburban America. I’m in India. But we’re not too far from floating on branded noods in a pool. Instead of doggy-bagging leftovers, I’m schlepping home anime-splattered highball glasses, expressive T-shirts, and enamel pins designed to announce to strangers that I, too, brunch.

If, like me, you’ve been out and about eating in India lately, you’ll know that we don’t just eat the sandwich—we wear the sandwich. We don’t just slurp the ramen—we queue for hours to snag ramen-inspired sneakers.

What the hell am I talking about? The new and growing world of restaurant merch.

Your closet as an extension of the menu

At Kona, a newly opened sando shop in New Delhi’s GK-II, Radhika Khandelwal drops sandwiches with monthly merch collabs featuring up-and-coming artists and small-business owners. One weekend it’s a salmon-onigirazu-inspired Drift shirt with Chao.in, the next, your sando comes not with sauce but with a pin from Say It With a Pin. “Merch isn’t just about selling a shirt—it’s also about building community,” says Khandelwal. “It adds an exciting dimension to our work.” Kona’s weekly drops prove a point: restaurants aren’t just feeding you, they’re also building fandoms.

A 30-minute trek from Kona to Gurgaon lands you at Espressos Any Day, where chef Tarannum Sehgal is a few pieces away from serving up cafe couture. She started with retro calendars (because why not relive the ’90s?) and has graduated to a full wall of merch. 

Between frothy matchas and over-the-top sandos, you’re seduced by slogan-splashed tote bags, caps, and their bestselling Matcha tee—anti-fit and unapologetically Gen Z. “Our tees were first designed for staff members. Now it’s hard to tell apart a consumer from the staff because everyone is twinning!” Sehgal laughs.

Next up: aprons. Because apparently nothing screams inclusivity like strangers donning your kitchen uniform. 

Much ado about merch

It seems restaurant merch is the new band tee. At The Bombay Canteen, the staff T-shirts have been coveted since day one, “but merchandise has never been a big part of our business,” notes Sameer Seth, co-founder of Hunger Inc. Hospitality. Their latest collab with streetwear label CrepDog Crew, however, is a move towards feeding that demand for signature pieces. “For so many people, Bombay is an emotion. This collaboration is our way of capturing that spirit and bringing it alive through a different touchpoint.” 

Over in Bandra, the iconic pub Toto’s Garage is slinging caps that look like they were fished out of a vintage bin (in the best way). Next door, at Subko’s Chapel Road outlet, you will see a space dedicated to ceramics, tote bags and even artsy photobooks that regulars routinely buy. In Goa, Alag cafe’s baristas have taken their Japanese-obsessed streak to tees, caps, journaling books, even a house magazine. And down in Anjuna, Nova Sandwich Shop has turned its ducky mascot into a full-blown side hustle, appearing on clothes, caps, and even umbrellas. 

Think of it as the FnB Pokémon

India’s merch menu is expanding fast. If Delhi’s FnB players are treating merch like a playful side gig to recruit a community, Bengaluru is turning it into full-blown streetwear hustle. Last month, chef Kavan Kuttappa teamed up with sneaker label Comet to release 400 pairs of black, kitchen-proof kicks detailed with chopsticks. They sold out faster than a Friday night reservation (and no, don’t count on a restock!).

Even though Kuttappa claims that “merch isn’t our bread and butter; we make ramen”, Naru’s goodies have spawned a legion of fans. “There’s a guy from Hyderabad who has every single piece of Naru—tees, staff-only caps, even the limited-run ramen bowls,” Kuttappa shares.  

Perhaps because Naru’s merch isn’t simply a logo-on-a-tee energy, and (super limited), they manage to keep it all fun. “We only do it when it feels right,” says the chef-owner. From caps to coveted tees (you can check out their e-comm shop here), enough thought is invested in these drops. In fact, it took them eight months to launch one shirt. “The joke is that this elaborately embroidered second-anniversary tee only got ready in time for our third anniversary,” says Kuttappa.  

And then Mumbai said, hold my chopsticks! At four-month-old SupaSan, sushi collides with anime, and the merch has become as much of a draw as the food. They’ve carved out an entire retail corner inside the restaurant (collaborating with The Comic Bookstore in Bandra) stacked with manga comics, figurines, pins, and graphic tees that fly fast. Abhishek Bindal, SupaSan’s chief operating officer, calls it “selling pieces of culture”, and he isn’t kidding—everyone from Gen Z regulars to the Japanese Consulate General has snapped up SupaSan merch like it’s some cosplay gear.

The tees are manga-level extra: frogs drinking beer, tigers slurping noodles. And they’re just warming up: anime glassware, chopsticks, maybe even notebooks are on the way. 

Why stop at dinner when you can take home an entire universe?

Not every diner is a merch-head. But the ones who are will sometimes resort to theft. Case in point: the vanishing coasters at Bhawan, the regional-Indian restaurant in Gurgaon. After a season of coaster heists—“the best kind of guerrilla marketing,” laughs founder, chef (and self-confessed coaster hoarder) Kainaz Contractor—the restaurant leaned in and started selling them. “You could say the push towards merch came from our customers,” she admits.

Bhawan’s merch leans hard on nostalgia: hand-painted type, bill boxes shaped like matchboxes, keychains and magnets pulled straight from the restaurant’s wall art. The effect is less swag, more souvenir. For locals it’s a playful nod to the familiar; for tourists, a slice of India to carry home. 

The merch maximalists

If you notice, you’ll see the food merch game has evolved to rival that of full-blown lifestyle brands. Even mom-and-pop joints are out here dropping merch like they’re Supreme. And the pieces that stick are usually coded deep into the brand’s DNA.

The pan-India chain Burma Burma is the poster child (pun intended) of such merch. Double-walled teacups, lotus stem chips, khow suey paste—the restaurant doubles up as a pantry, souvenir shop, and cultural export machine. For them, merch is soft power. Each tote, teacup, pin, sticker or jar of paste extends the brand’s mission of introducing Burmese culture to India—and beyond. With nine cities under its belt, Burma Burma has turned dining rooms into cultural embassies.

It helps that founder Ankit Gupta is a merch maximalist. In a world where logos shout, Gupta almost exclusively wears pieces peddled by his peers as a loud nod to his community. 

Coffee, dessert, and a branded tee as the new tasting menu? We’re here for it.

So, order the ramen, but don’t forget the sneakers. Pocket the coaster, then buy the bill box. Because in 2025, the true measure of a meal is the cap, the tee, the tote that let you flex your identity and flaunt your allegiances. It keeps chefs restless, diners loyal, and closets brimming with ramen monkeys and old-school Bombay pride.