Posts Tagged ‘indian’

Resto 63 Shah Tandoori, Euston

November 12, 2017

To the Shah Tandoori for an end of season cricket dinner. Drummond Street is the go to place for me for curries so I’m surprised that i haven’t mentioned Shah before – especially as we came here last year! It could be that in the excitement of lager-fuelled cricket bants the memory of the occasion slipped my mind.

This year’s do wasn’t as bacchanalian, which meant that I could appreciate the food more. In this veggie-dominated strip it turns out that Shah is much superior on the food front to its meaty rival across the road, Taste of India.

You can take Kingfisher or Cobra on the beer front. Our order of five poppadoms was generously doubled by the management, which was handy as I was starving. I went off my usual order with a Sheek Kebab up front, followed by a king prawn rezella. The Kebab was excellent, spicy and juicy, while the rezella gave me the heat that I needed and a good helping of prawns. A perfectly prepped chapati was on hand to soak up the juice and everything v good in the stomach department. I’ll be back next year, hopefully after contributing more than this year’s couple of dozen runs with the bat.

8/10

#food #London

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016/7 check out my GoogleMap

Resto 51, Vallée du Kashmir, Paris

September 6, 2017

We wanted something cheap and cheerful before seeing Dunkirk (or Dunkerque as they have it round here) in the Gaumont up the road. I was drawn into the Valley by remembrance of curries past, specifically of eating in an Indian by the Jardin des Plants after a freezing day’s walking with my then small children and the manager bringing us our own table-side calor gas stove. I was so cold and grateful I nearly cried. That is what I call customer service; the food wasn’t bad either.

We didn’t need a heater in the V du K but I would advise sunglasses. They have enough lights inside to land a jumbo jet. Flashing lights that would have Huw Stephens giving a stern avertissement for those with epilepsy. Lights in the ceiling. A TV churning out cheesy Indian pop videos. Lighted walls. Hell, I suspect they have lights on their lights.

I can just imagine their discussions with their accountant when they’re asking him why they’re not turning a profit:

‘But guys, in a businesses of your size you really shouldn’t be spending €20,000 a month on electricity. Are you sure someone hasn’t hooked up your supply to an industrial turbine?’

‘It’s the lights. We like lights.’

‘The lights? Yeah, I noticed those … And I’m blind. You need to do something about that.

‘We worship the lights.’

‘Bof, it’s your money.’

They like lights. They worship lights.

There was only one other guy in there but it was early by French standards. I remembered that things come in a curious order in French Indians but I couldn’t remember exactly how. We went for standards (as usual when testing a new place) with samosas and onion bhajia up front then a chicken jalfrezi for me for main and a Himalayan lamb for him. One popadom was placed on a side plate so we ate it while waiting for the beer (I didn’t know they did kingfisher in bottles so small but it was good and cold). We wondered why there were no chutneys but the mystery was solved as they arrived with the starters. As did the nan. Hmm.

The samosas were excellent, plenty of veg inside, and spicy. Onion bhaji in France is an onion ring, which is not to the British taste is it? I wanted sweatyoily balls of gut destroying deliciousness. These seemed insipid and trop civilisés. We were waiting for him to bring the mains but eventually realised that we were expected to eat our nan first. We chutnied the nan, the chutneys were good if nothing special while the bread lacked the crispness and ghee enriched luxury of its British cousin.

Then for the curries. My jalfrezi was curry but it wasn’t as ferocious as I wanted it to be. Oh my Standard, oh how I missed you. I’ll never betray you again. I couldn’t even see evidence of chili. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. I took a swig of Kingfisher and mopped up the last of the juices with RICE. Not nan because we’d eaten that. Everything was out of whack. Though the service was exemplary it didn’t make up for the wrongness of the food.

Perhaps my Valley of Kashmir induced hankering for Britain was responsible for my weeping through Dunkirk. Or it might have been Hans Zimmer’s astute, just this side of cichéd use of Elgar on the soundtrack. Or it might have been a not particularly good actor reading Churchill’s speech on a steam train (you can’t ruin rhetoric like that, it’s inobliterable). Or Nolan’s direction. Anyway I did that and I don’t mind, it’s good to have a good cry every now and then isn’t it?

Can’t repeat the past? Why of course you can. Sorry Jay, you can’t; and I’ll never go for a curry in Paris again.

5/10

#Food #Paris

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016/7 check out my GoogleMap

Resto 48 Salt and Pepper, Ostkreuze

September 4, 2017


Having played one football match and watched another (the first finishing 2-6, the second 9-9) our team was looking for something other than pig to eat for a change. We found it in the shape of Salt and Pepper, an Indian restaurant which rather curiously allows you to order from the menu of the Mexican down the road. I have to say that alarm bells were ringing at that prospect but while the food was unspectacular it wasn’t awful.

The highlight came from a pungently spicy green dip among the three on offer with the popadoms. The other two were suffering from blandular fever. My main of mutton curry had good flaky bits of meat in an unspectacular sauce and a generous helping of rice. Naan wasn’t as luxurious as you’d normally encounter in the U.K. but maybe that was to fit in with the local taste.

Given that we were about 10 at table the service was straightforward and friendly with good beer (well, it’s Germany isn’t it?). Not being listed on the menu an enquiry was made as to whether Irish coffee was available. They didn’t know what it was but they said they’d endeavour to satisfy the demand. Presumably after a quick scan of Google a nausea-inducing glass of whipped cream, coffee and whiskey (what a waste) was provided which though not to my taste appeared to meet with the approval of my fellow diners.

S’n’P may not be the greatest Indian restaurant in the world (or even Ostkreuze) but it did the job for a hungry football team on a Saturday night.

6/10

P.s Cheers to Gavin for the picture, I forgot to take one.

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016/7 check out my GoogleMap

Resto 34 Chaseside Indian Restaurant, Enfield

July 19, 2017

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Warning: This post contains language.

Improbably finding myself in Enfield with a couple of friends on a Tuesday night and fairly refreshed we went in search of food. Chaseside Indian fitted the bill, it was that kind of evening.

We were surprised at how busy the room was until Tariq spotted the lure – Mondays and Tuesdays offered starter, main, side and stodge (rice or naan) for  £10.95 a head. No wonder the joint was packed with bargain hunting suburbanites.

We took a seat and surveyed the menu. This was stripped down to the classics so I went for onion bhaji, chicken naga, channa masala and rice. But first, lager. On tap there was Cobra. Now I’m not the biggest fan of Cobra but even after a day on the sauce this tasted rank. We struggled manfully through half a glassful each before giving up and asking if they had anything else. To his credit the waiter readily acknowledged that the beer was off (in that case why did he serve it in the first place you might ask) and replaced it with a bottle of Kingfisher. Serenity returned to the table.

The food was good enough, the bhaji being the highlight, the rest being adequate. I hadn’t been aware of our causing any out of the ordinary disturbance but halfway through the meal we were interrupted by a neo-Puritan of the old-baggish variety approaching our table to deliver a diatribe about our language. It was too ripe apparently.

Rather than take the obvious path of telling her to fuck off we apologised fulsomely. Perhaps too fulsomely? I hope fulsomely enough to make her feel that her journey had been worthwhile but also fulsomely enough to indicate to the chuckling couple next to us that we were taking the piss.

Told off for swearing in Enfield! Rather like being reprimanded for being overweight in Disneyworld. We settled the bill (under fifteen quid a head), made our excuses and left.

5/10

#Food #London

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016/7 check out my GoogleMap

Resto 31 Millennium Balti, Leamington Spa

July 8, 2017

Having done Baba’s during Euro 2016 it was time to try their over the road rivals at The Millennium Balti. My first, indeed only, disappointment was that The MB wasn’t crewed by a Wookie but rather by a very charming young Asian feller. He did himself no harm in the tipping stakes by taking the opportunity of my son nipping to the loo to tell me that he recognised him as a regular who was ‘nice and quiet’. What this ambiguous statement actually meant I pondered then decided that it was a compliment.

On to the food. Popadoms with a choice from four chutneys were demolished tout de suite. As was a big bottle of Tiger (a snip at £2 odd), it being one of the hottest days of the year. Onion bhajis were perfect – not too greasy and a good lead in to a Chicken Rezalla which had the required amount of heat without being devastating. Despite the scorching weather a steady stream of customers came in through the door, a testament to the quality of Millennium’s offer. And at under 15 quid a head it was extraordinary value given that we’d had two rounds of drinks.

So how does it compare to across the road? Well, it doesn’t have the crazy edge that comes with King Baba’s random conversation generator approach to customer service, and I’d say that the whole product in terms of food, décor and service is at a superior level.

However, there is a place for Baba’s less polished style and so I’d encapsulate the two in this legend:-

Baba’s for mates, the Balti for dates.

8/10

#Food #LeamingtonSpa

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016/7 check out my GoogleMap

Resto 26 Bhatti, Covent Garden

May 28, 2017

Half three in the afternoon is a bit of a weird time to go to for a curry but we’d been to a concert and hadn’t had lunch. On our way to Dishoom (which we knew would be open) we were surprised to see that Bhatti, which screams trad Indian, also had its doors open. So we took a punt.

Two other diners and the waiter were the only other souls in the room. Most of the other restos on this stretch of Great Queen Street have gone upscale but Bhatti has stuck to it guns and retains a whiff of the 1970s in its décor. The menu is solid British Indian staples at pretty reasonable prices for this location but how was the cooking?

Mixed. My starter of aloo chat was some watery spuds and lettuce in an insipid sauce. Reports from across the table on the state of the onion bhaji were not encouraging. However, the main of a chicken jalfrezi delivered the required heat if not being altogether a taste sensation. Good naan bread and okra compensated slightly but it was rather disappointing that two chilled mugs couldn’t be wrangled for our Kingfishers – I had to settle for the warm one.

Service was good and it was obvious that they only had a skeleton crew on for the afternoon crowd. I would hope that things improve once the evening session gets started but if you want the trad Indian in this part of London it’s a better option to hang on if you can till The India Club starts cooking.

5/10

#Food #London

Resto 23 Cinnamon, Soho

April 19, 2017

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Between the library and a gig at the Wigmore we were looking for a bit of spice. Soho’s Kingly Street being on the way we took a chance on Cinnamon, which from the outside looks rather too carefully put together in the Bills/Dishoom tradition. I was wrong to have doubts.

It was early evening so the room wasn’t too busy but it soon filled up with mostly local workers and a smattering of tourists. The menu promised classic Indian dishes with a twist (eff). But my eye was immediately drawn to the drinks – £4.80 for a pint of Stella in this part of town is a definite draw! We got stuck in to that while selecting the food.

We shared a plate of lamb shami kebab to kick off – four balls of good stuff with a couple of sauces went down a treat. For main I had an ox cheek vindaloo with masala mash and a dhal to share. The ox cheek vindaloo was a star turn – a good helping of crumbly cheek in a seriously spicy sauce. The masala mash was rather blown away by it and felt a bit unnecessary. I would have preferred a bit more thickness to the dhal but it also had a seriously deep flavour. With an excellent naan to scrape up the juices I demolished the whole lot and wanted more.

The service was excellent throughout and I was completely won over from my initial scepticism. Cinnamon delivers a superior experience to Dishoom at a better price on the same street. And who wouldn’t be happy with that?

8/10

#Food #London #Soho

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2017 check out my GoogleMap

Review #100 Diwana, Drummond Street

November 28, 2016

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At the end of a fun day of Movember walking (and it’s not too late to donate should you wish to do that thing) a bunch of us made our weary way back to Drummond Street from Kings Cross at the insistence of a vegan friend. Something I was happy to comply with but not entirely to the gruntlement of the more carnivorous amongst us (‘Where’s the chicken?!’ went a querulous cry.).

We were a convivial group though and once we’d negotiated our way to a big table up top of Diwana with carry outs from Sainsbury’s (they’re happy for you to bring your own as long as you put a bit of corkage on top of the bill) we settled in nicely. Diwana doesn’t go big on luxurious furnishings. In fact I suspect the room has little changed since it opened but don’t let that put you off. The food is very good, in fact the best of the South Indian bunch as far as I’m concerned.

First up for me were a few samosas which I despatched tout de suite. The main event was a Raza (sp?) Dhosa which was a big old crêpe wrapped around some tastymushy vegetables. The service was slightly chaotic but I’d say that was more due to the nine folks in various stages of booze on our side of the relationship rather than any slackness on the Diwana staff’s part.

7/10

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016 check out my GoogleMap

Review #93 Ragam, Fitzrovia

November 7, 2016

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Another Friday another north London curry, this time in the company of departmental colleagues. Ragam was new to me and they do things a bit differently here. So as well as poppadoms for a starter (with one of our party making a bold gambit of a four per head order! (We quickly scaled it back to a more modest three.)) we had some puri style cashew nuts which were curious but not especially an improvement on your bare naked nut.

Beer comes in the variety of Kingfisher, Cobra and another one whose name escapes me. Possibly because I had two of it. It was from a bottle and tasted better than either of the others so I’d recommend it if only I wasn’t suffering in the memory department. Did we have starters? No, we didn’t, I was already running late and so we went straight into the mains. With no jalfrezi available I was thoroughly confused so plumped for a chicken dansak. It was yum. Also good was the kerala paratha which was crispy and munchable. The culinary appeal of ladies fingers divided the table but I scoffed a great deal of them.

The service was excellent and on the whole Ragam gives as good product as Gaylord round the corner but without the expense.

7/10

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016 check out my GoogleMap

Review #91 Taste of India, Drummond Street

October 24, 2016

Coming to review a restaurant when the intervening 48 hours have seen a bacchanalian 60th birthday party and a 6 hour police assisted face off with somebody with mental health issues (not mine (this time at least!)), one could be forgiven for not exactly remembering the details of the cuisine on Friday night. Especially as that occasion was an end of season cricket social that inevitably involved a real ale lead in of several hours.

Fortunately my choice of dish at the trad Friday night Indian is as constant as the North Star. Taste of India is a blaze of light on the Drummond Street curry furlong and was selected over the excellent veggies to be found there to satisfy the carnivores amongst the team. We were a raucous-ish table of twelve but the service was remarkably good given the ‘confused’ state of some of us, and a fair amount of badinage going across the linen. I glanced at the couple next to us and felt a mild pang of pity for what they were about to have to listen to.

We had a poppadom starter (two each), which came with a four piece chutney backing group. Well, they were fine but they didn’t last long. My stomachbrain was then wondering where the hell the onion bhaji was. But the jalfrezi arrived soon enough with good sized chicken bits and the refreshing blast of unmediated chilli. On the side was the usual carb overload – rice, aloo, naan – but also some good vegetable involving okra, cauliflower, mushrooms and other unspecified stuff which was at the other end of the table and beyond my arsedness to reach.

Did we have coffee? I don’t think so. The Kingfishers were admirably chilled, the last dregs slipping down surprisingly well with a complimentary mint. Taste of India does what you want a traditional Indian to do and it does it well enough.

6/10

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016 check out my GoogleMap


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