My first time here, most of the other restaurants were closed on Sunday so I decided to try Zayka’s. The food was great. It was buffet style at lunch until 230pm, then they close and reopen for dinner at 5pm. Finished off with rice pudding, mango dessert, and chai tea, also included in the buffet. Atmosphere was really nice inside.
Vegan Restaurant
Zayka Indian Cuisine
· $$$$ · springfield · Strict-vegan verified
Fully vegan
Editor synopsis · 0 reviews
Diners overwhelmingly call out the signature dish as the must-order. The vibe reads as vegan restaurant — service is consistently described as warm and unhurried. Common gotcha: queues form at peak times — go early or late.
Excerpts
My first time here, most of the other restaurants were closed on Sunday so I decided to try Zayka’s. The food was great. It was buffet style at lunch until 230pm, then they close and reopen for dinner at 5pm. Finished off with rice pudding, mango dessert, and chai tea, also included in the buffet. Atmosphere was really nice inside.
On Christmas Day, when Christians rightly mark the Incarnation of the world, Zayka Indian Cuisine in Springfield remained open. That a non-Christian house should offer hospitality on a Christian feast is not a contradiction but a quiet fulfillment of it, and deserves Christian approbation. For hospitality, after all, is among the oldest virtues, older than calendars and broader than creeds. We entered not in celebration but in subdued sorrow. By an unkind arrangement of circumstance, we found ourselves without our child and without family, strangers in a city on a day ordered toward togetherness. Such moments render one acutely aware of atmosphere, of whether a place merely serves or truly receives. Zayka receives. The service was conducted with seriousness unmarred by stiffness, and friendliness unspoiled by excess. There was no holiday display, no forced cheer—only attentiveness, patience, and a manner that suggested the dignity of both host and guest was understood and respected. We ordered the Zayka Special for two and customized it carefully: vegetarian assortment appetizers, goat biryani, lamb karahi, garlic naan, basmati rice, Indian coffee, chai tea, and two desserts. The water cold and crisp, iced well. The meal unfolded with a sense of order and completeness. The goat biryani was fragrant and deliberate, the lamb karahi deep and sustaining, the naan properly warm and indispensable. Nothing clamored for attention; everything was confident in its place. The coffee and chai were offered not as novelties but as consolations, and the desserts concluded the meal as conclusions should—without haste and without excess. The price was more than fair, which is to say it never intruded upon the experience. One felt not that one had purchased a feast, but that one had been entrusted with it. There was in the room a quiet love of family, unannounced yet unmistakable, present in the pacing of the meal and the care taken in every small thing. On Christmas Day, this love carries particular weight. We left and walked arm in arm around the promenade and the Christmas tree, the night calm and reflective, with a deepened gratitude for family and for those places that, when necessity demands, stand briefly in its stead. Support this business
On Christmas Day, when Christians rightly mark the Incarnation of the world, Zayka Indian Cuisine in Springfield remained open. That a non-Christian house should offer hospitality on a Christian feast is not a contradiction but a quiet fulfillment of it, and deserves Christian approbation. For hospitality, after all, is among the oldest virtues, older than calendars and broader than creeds. We entered not in celebration but in subdued sorrow. By an unkind arrangement of circumstance, we found ourselves without our child and without family, strangers in a city on a day ordered toward togetherness. Such moments render one acutely aware of atmosphere, of whether a place merely serves or truly receives. Zayka receives. The service was conducted with seriousness unmarred by stiffness, and friendliness unspoiled by excess. There was no holiday display, no forced cheer—only attentiveness, patience, and a manner that suggested the dignity of both host and guest was understood and respected. We ordered the Zayka Special for two and customized it carefully: vegetarian assortment appetizers, goat biryani, lamb karahi, garlic naan, basmati rice, Indian coffee, chai tea, and two desserts. The water cold and crisp, iced well. The meal unfolded with a sense of order and completeness. The goat biryani was fragrant and deliberate, the lamb karahi deep and sustaining, the naan properly warm and indispensable. Nothing clamored for attention; everything was confident in its place. The coffee and chai were offered not as novelties but as consolations, and the desserts concluded the meal as conclusions should—without haste and without excess. The price was more than fair, which is to say it never intruded upon the experience. One felt not that one had purchased a feast, but that one had been entrusted with it. There was in the room a quiet love of family, unannounced yet unmistakable, present in the pacing of the meal and the care taken in every small thing. On Christmas Day, this love carries particular weight. We left and walked arm in arm around the promenade and the Christmas tree, the night calm and reflective, with a deepened gratitude for family and for those places that, when necessity demands, stand briefly in its stead. Support this business
The food was good. I had the butter chicken. The spice level he promised he delivered. I also had the pistachio ice cream and it was delicious.