- HOMEGROWN WORLD
- HGCREATORS
- HGEXPLORE
- HGVOICES
- HGSHOP
- CAREERS
- ABOUT US
- CONTACT US
Sonic seasoning explores how sound can influence flavour perception, while the music playing in a restaurant can shape its atmosphere, the pace of a meal and the conversations unfolding around it. Through conversations with chefs, restaurateurs and hospitality professionals at places including Naar, Bandra Born, Gonzo, Effingut, and Altry, this piece discusses the thought that goes into a restaurant playlist, the acoustics that shape how we hear it, and the balance between setting the mood and drowning out dinner.
I have a theory that almost every activity known to humankind improves with music. Travelling, of course, getting dressed to head out, cooking, smoking a cigarette, even sitting around with friends doing absolutely nothing of consequence are all better with a soundtrack. Have you ever played poker with Jaleel Shaw’s “You Hate Jazz?” in the background? Trust me, there’s no going back. My enthusiasm for music has very few boundaries, which makes my longstanding objection to music in restaurants somewhat embarrassing to admit. It’s pretty straightforward: I sing along to songs I know, and restaurants are full of songs I know. This leaves me with a logistical problem involving cutlery, lyrics and the prospect of attempting to chew while delivering the chorus to ABBA’s Dancing Queen.
Music in restaurants is tolerable under the appropriate circumstances, but a restaurant supplying its own soundtrack to my meal has always seemed vaguely intrusive. I have spent perfectly good dinners trying to ignore a song I know all the words to, which is like asking someone to leave a plate of their favourite dessert untouched. My objection sent me down a research rabbit hole at culinary school, where I learnt about sonic seasoning: the study of how sound can influence our perception of taste.
Research has explored associations between musical characteristics and flavour. Higher-pitched sounds, for instance, have been associated with sweetness, while lower-pitched sounds have been linked to bitterness. These associations vary with context and individual experience, so no playlist can guarantee that your walnut pie will taste sweeter. Music also affects mood, memory and our expectations of an experience, all of which can influence our enjoyment of a meal. But how does the concept work outside a research paper? I spoke to five people working across restaurants, cafes and bars about how they build sound into the experience of eating and drinking.
Chef and DJ Gresham Fernandes, chef-partner at Mumbai’s Bandra Born, brings food and music together at a restaurant inspired by the cultural memory of the neighbourhood. His approach to sound begins with a practical consideration: a restaurant has to accommodate the clatter of plates, conversations and the movement of a service team, all of which affect how music reaches a guest.
“When you're building out a sound system in a club, it's very different from when you're building it in a restaurant,” he explains. “With a club, you don't have the clatter of plates, you don't have the team talking. You have to keep all of that in focus.” The room itself matters, too. “Even when you're building out a restaurant, you have to put in a lot of soft spots that will absorb the sound and absorb the noise.”
For Gresham, a playlist has to work with these physical conditions while developing alongside the meal. He favours a consistent volume that builds with the experience, allowing the music to evolve without turning each course into an occasion for the soundtrack to stop and start. That calls for somebody who can read the room and understand the cultural associations people bring to music.
“You need to have somebody who culturally understands music. It cannot be one genre,” he says. A song might connect with one table and leave another cold, and no selection can account for every guest. “You cannot make it perfect for everybody.”
Gresham recalls playing heavy metal for bikers having lunch at Bandra Born while older diners nearby enjoyed music that reminded them of their children growing up. The same songs carried different associations for different people. “If the context is right, it will sound right.”
His ideal soundtrack is ultimately about how a room makes a guest feel. “For me, I look at sound as it should be indulging,” he says, describing it as “a nice warm hug”. A lovely sentiment, provided the hug comes at a volume that still allows you to hear your dinner companion.
At Naar, a destination restaurant near Kasauli, chef Prateek Sadhu’s cooking draws on Himalayan ingredients and culinary traditions. Music accompanies the progression of the menu, with the team considering how the setting, courses and soundtrack work together. Vishwas Tripathi, the Assistant Manager of Operations, says the experience begins with helping guests register their surroundings.
“We are trying to make them comfortable with nature first, to help them understand where they are, because most of them are coming from louder cities,” he explains. The playlist then eases guests into the meal, beginning with familiar, gentler music before moving towards jazz.
“Since I came here, we have been setting up the playlist according to the taste and textures of the food,” Vishwas says. “Our playlists are crafted so that the song comes with the course, and that enhances it.” The team considers the character of each dish and how the music might complement it, treating the soundtrack as part of the progression of the menu.
Sound also enters the experience through the kitchen. Sizzling can contribute to the presentation of a dish, but the team has to manage equipment noise so it doesn't overwhelm the dining room. When staff explain a course to guests, the volume comes down; the soundtrack has to leave room for the food to be introduced and discussed.
The playlist also responds to the people at the table. A solo diner might notice the music more than a group absorbed in conversation, so staff consider guests’ preferences and whether particular songs might complement the courses. Across a long tasting menu, the relationship between music and service can help regulate the pace of the experience.
“We can pace them. We can slow them down. Both things can work simultaneously,” Vishwas says. He describes the overall approach as “the journey we are taking their palate on”. At Naar, each course contributes to that journey, and music helps connect the individual moments into a meal.
At Gonzo, a restaurant and bar influenced by Asian street culture, music helps set the pace of the day. Relaxed selections accompany daytime visits, before hip-hop and livelier tracks take over as the evening gathers momentum. Uttkarsh Anthwal, who works on the beverage programme, says the aim is to create a lively atmosphere without losing sight of why people have come together.
“We want you to have fun, but we also want you to have a personal experience with the people you're dining with,” he says.
That balance calls for a playlist that responds to the crowd. The mood of a weekday afternoon can be quite different from a busy weekend evening, when guests might want to drink, socialise and dance. The soundtrack develops accordingly, accommodating the restaurant’s social life without making conversation an uphill task.
Anyone who has tried to recount a disastrous date over dinner while a speaker blares overhead will recognise the problem. Music can give a room momentum, but the people at the table still need to hear one another. At Gonzo, the challenge is to let the evening grow livelier while leaving room for the conversations that brought people there in the first place.
Effingut Breweries began in Pune as a craft-beer brewpub and has since expanded to other cities. Founder and managing director Manu Gulati puts conversation at the centre of its identity, with music helping the pub move from casual daytime visits into livelier evenings.
“Effingut is built around conversation,” he says. “The signature of an Effingut is that it moves.”
Afternoons call for slower, more conversational selections, while evenings can build towards Bollywood, singalongs and dancing. Manu describes this progression as an “acoustic identity” that develops over time. “It is not the volume; it is an arc.”
That arc has to work in practice, too. Speaker placement, room layout and the number of people present all affect how music reaches different tables. Manu’s team uses a simple rule to judge when the sound is getting in the way: “If a server has to ask a guest to repeat an order, the music comes down.”
For Manu, the goal is a pub where the soundtrack contributes to the atmosphere without drowning out the people who make it. His favourite description of a successful evening captures the difference between volume and participation: “Good loud is a full room singing the same chorus.”
At Altry, an independent cafe founded by Sahil Bhambri, music forms part of a broader approach to hospitality. The cafe’s “Rest Is Resistance” philosophy informs its design, including the absence of plug points, which discourages guests from treating a table as a temporary office. Sahil wants to make room for a kind of leisure that doesn't have to justify itself through productivity.
“Not every hour of your day needs to produce something,” he says.
For Sahil, coffee is a way to bring people together. “Coffee is just a medium for me. That's why the cafe exists. It's a medium for conversation and mingling, much like old-school cafes used to be.”
Music contributes to the atmosphere Altry wants to cultivate, alongside its architecture, seating and approach to how guests use the space. The idea extends beyond serving a drink: the cafe invites people to sit, talk and spend time together without turning the afternoon into another item on a to-do list.
Across these five conversations, my conversations about 'sonic seasoning' underline just how meticulously restaurants go about shaping an experience. Music can influence flavour perception, but it also affects the pace of a meal, the ease of conversation, and the amount of time people want to spend in a room. At Naar, the soundtrack follows the tasting menu; at Effingut, it develops with the crowd; at Altry, it contributes to a cafe designed around rest. Gresham’s approach begins with the acoustics, while Utkarsh’s centres on the people sharing the space.
The work, as these conversations suggest, involves knowing what a room needs. Genre alone cannot determine whether a song belongs. Volume, acoustics, food and company all play a part, and a playlist that suits one setting can become unbearable in another.
I have become more accommodating of music in restaurants since researching sonic seasoning, although I retain the right to object when the speakers appear to have been handed over to somebody who has mistaken volume for atmosphere. I still sing along when a song catches me off guard, which remains a problem for the people dining with me and one I have no intention of solving. I am also more conscious of how much thought can go into the soundtrack accompanying a meal, from the way it complements a dish to the way it gives people room to enjoy one another’s company. A good song can improve dinner; a badly chosen one can give you something to complain about long after the plates have been cleared.
If you enjoyed reading this, here’s more from Homegrown:
A Homegrown Food & Drink Guide To Durga Pujo In Kolkata
Dewar’s Discoveries Found Inspiration In New Delhi’s Legendary Instrument Makers
From Bandung To Shillong, 5 Bar Takeovers On Our Radar This Month
