We were sodden footballers. Even in times of clemency York tends to be damp but on the weekend of Storm Dennis it was hard to tell where water, earth and sky separated themselves. An hour of toil on the astro in such conditions meant that after a jar or two in the Phoenix (highly recommended) we were hungry fellers.
The Garden of India was a short stroll from the pub and had a whiff of the Standard about it without quite living up to its, umm, standards. The menu is trad Indian and we had a round Cobrafisher while we perused it. Poppadums and chutneys too (fairly bland ones). Up front my sheek kebab was fine – well spiced meat, salad. A main of murgh sag, billed as medium hot, lacked any heat at all and was an utter disappointment. Naan on the other hand was very good and I scooped up whatever else I could grab amidst the hunger of a dozen old fellers.
On emerging Dennis was still doing his thing. and we crawled on through the mucky Yorkshire night.
Blue Badge guide to London and academic specialising in early twentieth century history. Blogging on history, academia, and food and culture in the capital (and occasionally elsewhere).