“I went to a bar alone in Delhi and someone asked if I’d been stood up.” If you’ve spent any time on Instagram over the last couple of months, chances are you’ve heard Nishi Singh say that sentence at least once. Probably more. It’s how she opens every Reel on Table for One Delhi, the account where she reviews cafes, bars, and restaurants across the city, usually by herself. Every time one of her videos pops up on my feed, I find myself stopping to see where she’s gone this time. A hidden terrace in Panchsheel Park? A cosy cafe tucked in Defence Colony? A restaurant everyone is raving about that she’s either about to wholeheartedly recommend or politely tear apart?
Table for One Delhi is barely nine weeks old, but in that short span Singh has visited somewhere between 60 to 70 places, posted around 50 videos and built an audience that seems just as interested in the experience of being alone as they are in where to order coffee or cocktails.
The account wasn’t born out of a lifelong passion for content creation. Born in Kolkata to a family from Bihar and largely raised in the UK, the 31-year-old has spent much of her adult life figuring things out as she goes. She dropped out of university after two years while studying Economics. What followed was a series of careers that make for a slightly chaotic LinkedIn profile: hospitality, a few years at Deloitte, a cafe in Bengaluru, a jewellery business during the Covid-19 pandemic, and consulting work. Through all those changes, one thing became second nature. “You have to get used to doing things by yourself, especially if you are moving countries,” she says.
When she arrived in Delhi after her marriage, however, being by herself felt different. “I basically spent most of my time inside, as I didn’t really know where to go, how to make friends,” she says. If Table for One Delhi had to pinpoint its cinematic origin moment, this would probably be it. One Friday evening, Singh got dressed, put on her jewellery, and headed to Khan Market in search of somewhere she could have a drink and a smoke. She ended up at Chatter House, where a group of strangers asked the question that would eventually become her opening line.
“They thought I’d been stood up because it was just so unusual to see a girl sitting by herself having a drink,” she recalls. “They assumed something had gone wrong.” The comment stuck with her. So did the realisation that, for all its packed restaurants and crowded bars, Delhi can still feel a little suspicious of solitude. “Everyone goes out in groups or you’re going to people’s houses, kind of only hanging out with people you already know,” she says. Instead of letting that stop her, she kept going out alone and started documenting it.
Solo dining isn’t exactly a new phenomenon. In countries such as Japan and South Korea, eating alone has long been woven into everyday life. India, on the other hand, has traditionally treated meals as a communal affair. But things seem to be shifting. Apps like Timeleft now match strangers over dinner, supper clubs have become increasingly popular among people looking to expand their circles, and hospitality groups are beginning to take note of solo diners too. Hussain Shahzad of Hunger Inc Hospitality has previously spoken about introducing the Canteen Experience at The Bombay Canteen, a smaller-format tasting menu designed specifically for one person to move through multiple courses.
Singh’s videos quickly found an audience. In a city where dinner plans often involve six schedules and three rounds of “let’s do next week instead”, there was something reassuring about watching someone simply take themselves out on a date. Her original goal was modest. She hoped to complete the challenge of visiting 30 places in 30 days and maybe reach around 10,000 followers by the end of it. Instead, the account got way more popular than she expected in a short amount of time. “People started recognising me like two weeks in,” she says. The reactions have been overwhelmingly positive, helped along by Singh’s dry observations about the city.
In one reel, she described Delhi Gymkhana as “Summer House for old people whose families once had money” and compared the scramble at the bar to “a party in North Goa”. Beneath the videos, the comments section has become a running list of recommendations, with people urging her to try countless other places they want to see through her lens.
Part of the appeal is that Singh doesn’t seem particularly interested in pretending she enjoyed something when she didn’t. She pays for almost everything herself and isn’t shy about saying when a place misses the mark. “We’re all so limited on time and money,” she says. “Why would I mislead other people?”
Ask her what immediately puts her off a place and the answer comes quickly: “I just hate places that are pretentious.” She brings up a recent visit to Zetu, a new Sri Lankan restaurant in Delhi, as an example. The disappointment stung because she genuinely wanted to love it. “My husband is Malayali. I’ve lived in Bangalore for five years, so I really like south Indian flavours, and Sri Lankan food is kind of adjacent to that,” she says. “Anything that’s coming off like that in Delhi, I’m desperate to be there.” Instead, she found herself staring at a menu that felt needlessly cryptic.
For Singh, food is only one part of the equation anyway. When she’s dining alone, ambience comes first, followed by service. “If I’m going out alone, I just want to feel as comfortable as possible,” she says. That’s why her current favourite isn’t necessarily the city’s hottest reservation. It’s Beanly in Panchsheel Park. The place ticks all of Singh’s boxes. Its terrace sits tucked beside a massive tree, making it the sort of place you’d park yourself at if you’re in the mood to romanticise your life a little.
As the account grew, so did the number of messages landing in her inbox. Some came from people who had recently moved to Delhi. Others wanted to start doing things alone but didn’t know where to begin. Many were simply looking to meet new people. “It felt weird to me to have all these people reaching out online but still not have people to hang out with on a day-to-day basis,” she says.
The messages eventually sparked an idea. Last month, Singh launched the Table for One Club, a members-only salon for people looking to make friends in the city over good food, good drinks, and even better conversation. The only ask is that people show up by themselves. No plus-ones. It’s for anyone who has moved to Delhi, wants to expand their circle or simply misses being around new people. The response has been immediate, with thousands of people following the page within days of its launch.
Before it formally took shape, she decided to test the waters with an in-person gathering at Fort City. Around 40 people showed up, all of them arriving alone. “The idea was to let everyone know that everyone’s coming alone and to be curious, to be kind, to make space for other people,” she says.
The experience convinced her that there was a genuine appetite for this kind of community. Her next paid event, a women-only gathering with Plus Nine One, is taking place over the weekend. Tickets are only available for Table for One Club members. Before we wrapped up, we asked Singh for the kind of recommendations her followers are constantly in her DMs for.
When you want to disappear into a book
“I would want to sit somewhere really comfortable where I can just chill for hours and hours, so it will be CUP (Coffee Under Palms).”
When you want to talk to strangers
“Strangr in GK-1. I think the environment is set up for it.”
The best seat in the house
“The window seat at Colocal Chocolates in Khan Market. I wasn’t sitting there, but I was very jealous of the girl who was.”
A place that didn’t work for you
“Shokupan.”
Your go-to for people-watching
“L’Opéra in Defence Colony. I was sitting right by the window, so I had the advantage of being inside and watching everyone walk past.”
A cocktail you’d cross Delhi traffic for
“The summer menu at Plus Nine One. There’s one dish that almost tastes like pani puri water.”
The friendliest host you’ve met
“Aman at Cavity in Barbet and Pals. He is such a character!”
