If you’re looking for soul warming and seriously flavour packed dishes this winter, look no further… Sundoo’s got you covered. This South Indian brainchild of chef and restaurateur Seelan Sundoo is serving up street food inspired dishes in a tapas styled format. Ideal for sharing, stealing bites, and ordering emotionally. Because, you know what? Food is supposed to bring people together and be enjoyed. Instead of another little lonely chicken and rice alone at home. Why not rather order butter chicken with rice instead? (and obviously a buttery paratha too). Meals should involve conversations, extra orders, and at least one, “okay wait, you HAVE to try this”. Sundoo delivers exactly that, and then some. 

“Respectfully, the customer is wrong sometimes

(most of the time).”

The Kind of Spot Cape Town Regulars Still Exist In

I found myself at Sundoo, Sea Point which was giving “hidden neighbourhood spot” rather than “influencer trap”. Yes, I know. Shocker! It feels like a place where regulars in Cape Town still exist. 

I’m going to be honest, during winter, you’ll very rarely get me out of the house past 6pm. I’m not built for the cold. So, since it’s healthy to still have a social life during the colder months, I have one condition: Wherever I go, it HAS to be warm. I don’t just mean temperature wise, but also food wise, and bonus points if service is too! Sundoo met all three.

From the moment I stepped through the door, I felt warm and welcomed. There is nothing quite like being greeted with a big smile. You know, one of those greetings that you’re not sure if you should go in for a hug or not…

After taking our seats, I took a moment to familiarise myself with the space. I loved the moodiness of the deep green walls, dark woods, and the warm lighting. I also really liked the murals throughout, adding personality without being gimmicky.

Wrapped in a Dosa and Handed a Blanket

Once oriented, I looked up to see Chef Seelan standing over our table, and at that very moment, I knew I was in for a treat. I’m always very impressed to see the owner at their restaurant, and I’ll even do you one better, he was going to be cooking too! Big tick!

I hadn’t even been there for five minutes and I already felt so well looked after… like being wrapped in a blanket and handed a dosa. Or rather, being wrapped in a dosa and handed a blanket? Who’s to say. 

Chef Knows Best

As one should, we decided to trust Chef with all the food related decisions, and of course, he did not disappoint. To really have the full experience, we thought it would be best to start with the street food styled tapas, then move to the curries (obviously), and if we still had space (can and will always make space) share some desserts. 

Suddenly the table started filling up with colour, steam, and chaos. It almost felt like one of those busy, flavour filled food markets where you don’t know where to look first… this is exactly why sharing plates work so well, oh, and letting the chef decide. You know what they say, “Chef knows best”. 

Curry in a Dumpling. Pause.

I started with the momos (aka dumplings). Okay, so unfortunately I wish I could physically pause this review the way my brain paused. Curry in a dumpling. PAUSE. Yes, two comfort foods combined into one dangerous situation. Chef Sundoo, this is truly a stroke of genius, thank you. The chicken tikka momos were as amazing as you think it would be. Smoky, creamy, spicy goodness… like Indian comfort food wrapped in a silky dumpling. Fiery enough to keep things exciting without overwhelming the palate.

But, if you’re more sensitive to heat, the spinach and paneer momos will most certainly mellow out those tingling sensations. Not only were they the perfect cooling contrast but they were still indulgent enough to hold their own. Just in a softer, more gentle way. 

Sticky Chutney and Slightly Dangerous Behaviour

Next on the itinerary were the lamb samosas. Once again, leaning into comfort food territory, and I certainly wasn’t complaining. My favourite way to eat these was (take notes) biting a corner off, absolutely drenching it in the sticky coriander chutney, popping it in my mouth, and then immediately going back for another bite… You’re welcome.

The crispy pastry, rich lamb filling, and sweet chutney made for the perfect sweet and savoury bite. It almost mimicked the comforting warmth you get from a really good Cape Malay bobotie.

Rubber Band Calamari Drama (Thankfully Absent)

Then the wok fried squid in a green chili sauce was the perfect lighter contrast to the richer plates. It was incredibly fragrant, citrusy, and thankfully free from any rubber band calamari drama. This dish brought a fresher, brighter energy to the table. I also loved the little crispy puffed rice crackers on top. It added the perfect crunch, which made it ridiculously moreish.

Inclusivity Matters: Wings for Flats and Drumstick People

Somehow, without even realising it, I’d accidentally saved the best for last. I’m not usually a chicken wing person. I know. Controversial. I’m far more of a drumstick girl, so I genuinely thought these would be my least favourite dish of the night. I was extremely wrong. These coal smoked tandoori wings were tender, deeply smoky, and packed with warming spice and flavour. The meat practically fell off the bone. Also, points to Sundoo for catering to both flats and drumstick people. Inclusivity matters. 

A Quick Trip to the Tropics Before Curry Season

Before fully entering curry season, we made a quick stop in the tropics to cool things down slightly. My mango mojito was sweet, icey, and had just enough citrus making for a ridiculously refreshing little palate cleanser before we moved on to mains.

Once the mojito had done its civic duty and cooled things down slightly, it was officially time for us to enter full Cape Town curry season. I actually cannot believe I’ve survived almost 27 winters in this city without having a Sundoo curry before. Slightly embarrassing behaviour from me, so let’s move on swiftly! 

’Tis the Season for Curry

Chef once again chose for us because, as we’ve now established, Chef knows best. Respectfully, the customer is wrong sometimes (most of the time). Our trio of curries arrived alongside buttery paratha, fluffy basmati rice, sambal, and the freshest carrot salad. The table suddenly looked like a proper feast.

I loved that the curries are designed for sharing. Slightly smaller portions, more variety, and made for more conversations. It calls for slower dining in the best way possible. You can really feel that Chef Seelan Sundoo wants food to bring people together, and honestly, that warmth carries through the entire experience. 

The Butter Chicken That Ended Communal Dining

I started with the butter chicken which, if I’m being honest, I fully expected to be the “safe” option of the evening. In my brain, butter chicken has always been a little bit basic. But what I realised in that moment is maybe basic isn’t actually a bad thing. I mean, how could it be if people keep coming back to it over and over again? 



However, this butter chicken was unlike any I’ve had before. And maybe the reason I’ve never been obsessed with other ones is because they’re rushed. Way too many shortcuts. Too focused on being the default curry order instead of actually being good. This one tasted like some actual time and effort had actually been put into it. It was luscious, deeply comforting, and full of flavour. Slightly sweet, beautifully spiced, rich without becoming heavy, with warmth from the cardamom and coconut running through it. Nothing overpowering, just proper flavour. 

And I know I spent the last five minutes romanticising communal dining and sharing plates, but unfortunately the spirit of sharing ended the second this butter chicken entered my life. After all, I grew up as an only child. I slowly kept pulling the bowl closer and closer towards myself throughout the evening until it was basically sitting next to my plate permanently. I wiped the bowl clean with buttery paratha like it was my full time job. 

Red Wine, Fireplaces, and Winter Comfort

The lamb curry felt like pure winter comfort. Like sitting in front of a fireplace with a glass of red wine while something hearty bubbles away in the kitchen. The lamb was beautifully tender, deeply flavourful, and the sauce coated the rice perfectly without ever feeling too heavy.

Please Remain Calm, It Was My First Time Trying Crayfish

Lastly, the crayfish curry. My first time trying crayfish, by the way. I know. Please remain calm. The pieces of crayfish were incredibly generous, sweet, and delicate. What I loved most is that the sauce never overpowered the crayfish itself. You could still taste that subtle sweetness from the meat, which made the whole dish feel more delicate and luxurious than the others. 

The Real Star Was Everything Together

Between bites, I found myself constantly going back to the carrot salad and sambal, which added the freshest little contrast. Not necessarily cooling because the curries were “too spicy,” but more because they brought brightness, crunch, and balance. And then, of course, the paratha. Buttery, flaky, stretchy perfection with those little golden charred bits that somehow always taste the best. The ideal tool for scooping up every last bit of sauce left on the plate, which, trust me, absolutely happened.

Dessert, Despite My Jeans Saying Otherwise

By this point, I genuinely thought we were done. Not taste wise. But stomach and jeans wise. So, when Chef insisted dessert was still coming, I’ll admit, I had doubts. Purely because I physically could not imagine another bite.

But then again, Chef knows best. And also, if you know me, you know I’m unfortunately a complete yes man when it comes to food. Hiking? Absolutely not. Dessert? Every single time.

Warm Desserts and Emotional Support

What landed on the table were two desserts made for sharing: the soji and the vermicelli with cardamom milk. And as someone who will choose a warm dessert over a cold one almost every time, I was immediately interested.

The Dessert That Got Better With Every Bite

The soji was unlike anything I’ve had before, but also strangely familiar. It reminded me of warm pap with sugar and milk as a child. Soft, slightly spongy, gently sweet, and one of those desserts that somehow becomes more interesting the more you eat it. Usually desserts peak at the first bite and then become overwhelming halfway through. This did the opposite.

Warm-Milk-Before-Bed Energy

Last but not least, the vermicelli rice pudding was creamy but not rich, delicate, lightly floral, comforting in that warm milk before bed kind of way. Not that I remember that, but that’s how I would imagine it felt. It somehow managed to feel indulgent and light at the same time.

Someone’s Grandmother Just Fed You Properly

Oddly enough, by the end of dessert, I actually felt less full than before. Not in a magic way. More in a “someone’s grandmother just fed you properly” kind of way. Overall, I left feeling incredibly looked after. Like I’d somehow been adopted into a family I didn’t know I needed. And considering there’s a branch closer to me in the southern suburbs, I already know I’ll be back.

Until next time!