For nearly a century, Veeraswamy has stood as a culinary beacon on London’s Regent Street, weaving together the threads of Indian and British culture in a tapestry as rich as its famed curries. But now, as the restaurant approaches its 100th anniversary in March 2026, a fierce battle is underway to save Britain’s oldest surviving Indian restaurant from closure—a fight that has drawn in celebrity chefs, local campaigners, and even the attention of Buckingham Palace.
The trouble began when Veeraswamy’s landlord, the Crown Estate, refused to renew the restaurant’s lease, citing an urgent need to refurbish Victory House, the Grade II-listed building that has been Veeraswamy’s home since 1926. According to the Crown Estate, the planned renovations will convert the restaurant’s space into offices and alter the building’s entrance in a way that would render the venue inaccessible. “This is not a decision we’ve taken lightly,” a Crown Estate spokesperson told the BBC, acknowledging the disappointment among staff, patrons, and the wider community.
The Crown Estate, an independent property company whose profits are funneled to the Treasury, insists that the refurbishment is essential to bring Victory House “up to modern standards, and into full use.” The spokesperson added, “We need to carry out a comprehensive refurbishment of Victory House to both bring it up to modern standards, and into full use.” Despite the offer of financial compensation and assistance in finding alternative West End premises, no solution has satisfied the Crown Estate’s “responsibilities to manage public money.” As a result, the dispute appears destined for court later in the summer of 2026.
Yet, for many, the story of Veeraswamy is about far more than bricks, mortar, and balance sheets. Since its founding, the restaurant has been a trailblazer, introducing generations of Britons to the flavors of India at a time when such cuisine was virtually unknown in the UK. “When Veeraswamy launched, Indian restaurants were virtually unknown in Britain, making it a genuine pioneer,” notes the BBC. The early clientele included Anglo-Indians longing for the tastes of home, as well as British generals, civil servants, and businesspeople with ties to India. Over the years, its guestbook has read like a who’s who of 20th-century history: Mahatma Gandhi, Jawaharlal Nehru, Charlie Chaplin, Marlon Brando, Winston Churchill, Princess Anne, David Cameron, and Andrew Lloyd Webber have all dined beneath its ornate chandeliers.
Veeraswamy’s legacy also includes a string of culinary firsts. The restaurant claims to have invented the now-classic British pairing of curry and beer, inspired by Prince Axel of Denmark’s fondness for Carlsberg in the 1920s. In the 1950s, it introduced the UK’s first tandoor oven, forever changing the British palate. Its menus have charted the evolution of Anglo-Indian cuisine—from Madras chicken curry and tarkari ka salan in 1947, to chicken vindaloo and poppadums by the 1950s, and chicken tandoori for just 52p (in pre-decimal currency) by 1959. In 2016, Veeraswamy’s culinary excellence was recognized with a coveted Michelin star, a badge it still wears with pride.
The restaurant’s cultural significance is not lost on its supporters. Over 18,000 people have signed a petition to save Veeraswamy, with campaigners preparing to deliver it to Buckingham Palace in the weeks following February 1, 2026. Their plea? For King Charles III, a known advocate for community cohesion, to intervene and help protect what they describe as “a living piece of shared cultural history.” The petition urges the monarch to “protect a historic institution” and preserve a “symbol of Indo-British cultural connections” as Veeraswamy nears its centenary.
Celebrity chefs have also joined the fray. Raymond Blanc, Michel Roux, and Richard Corrigan have all lent their voices to the campaign. Corrigan, never one to mince words, asked: “Most European cities cherish their legendary restaurants. Why in the name of God would we want to lose Veeraswamy?” Their support, along with that of the public, is expected to be on full display at Veeraswamy’s centenary dinner in March 2026—a glittering event anticipated to attract celebrities and public figures, and to serve as another rallying point for the cause.
Local organizations are equally vocal. Lucy Haine, chair of the Soho Society, described the potential closure as a “major loss to London’s history and culinary heritage.” The society is pushing for Veeraswamy to be recognized as an “asset of community value” in hopes of safeguarding its future. “The fight to keep this iconic London restaurant open and trading for future generations” is, in Haine’s view, about preserving the unique character of the area and the shared memories of countless Londoners.
For co-owner Ranjit Mathrani, the campaign is deeply personal. “We have people coming in to say: ‘I first came here with my godfather when I was aged 12’ or ‘I was engaged here during the Blitz’ or ‘I came here because my uncle brought me here in the 1950s,’” he reflected to BBC reporters. Mathrani believes Veeraswamy represents a crucial chapter in the Indian community’s British story, having “broke the ice” for the generations of Indian restaurants that followed. He hopes King Charles might have a “quiet word” in support, but Buckingham Palace has maintained that the matter is for the Crown Estate to resolve.
The looming threat to Veeraswamy comes on the heels of another blow to London’s Indian dining scene: the closure of the India Club in 2023, following unsuccessful efforts to protect that historic institution from redevelopment. For many, the prospect of losing Veeraswamy feels like losing a vital link to the city’s multicultural past—a sentiment echoed by both diners and campaigners alike.
As the legal battle heads for the courts and the centenary celebrations approach, the fate of Veeraswamy hangs in the balance. Its supporters remain undaunted, determined to keep the flames of its tandoor—and its legacy—burning for future generations. Whether the King will step in, or the courts will grant a reprieve, is anyone’s guess. But for now, the fight to save Britain’s oldest Indian restaurant continues, fueled by memories, tradition, and the enduring power of a good curry shared among friends.