Restaurants
THE GOOD DAL GUIDE
Restaurateurs moan about Dry January, but I can’t help thinking it plays into the hands of all the spicy Asian restaurants whose cookery is perfectly palatable with a glass of fruit juice or sparkling water.
I felt a chill down my spine as I wrote that sentence: it is only old Knottipedia himself, The Oldie’s wine writer, who can always recommend an alcoholic drink for even the tiniest grub. For us pledge-signers, the Orient is where to spend the month.
Our devotion to things spicy is not a recent phenomenon. The first date we know a curry (derived from the Tamil kari) appeared on a menu was in 1773, at a coffee house in London’s Norris Street.
The first Indian restaurant, the Hindustani Coffee House, was started in 1809 at 34 George Street, near Portman Square, a popular area for returning nabobs. The owner was Dean Mahomet, who had come from Bihar via a stint in County Cork. The Coffee House was intended ‘for the Nobility and Gentry where they might enjoy the Hooka with real Chillum tobacco and Indian dishes of the highest perfection’. The punters must have got too stoned to pay their bills because poor Mahomet had to file for bankruptcy after just three years.
Most clubs and hotels like the Cecil and Savoy had curry chefs in Edwardian times. ‘Smiler’, the Cecil’s Indian pride and joy, was finally lured away to Sherry’s in New York. There were plenty of Indian eateries in the East End for Lascars and even quite formal restaurants such as the Salute Hind (1911) in Holborn and the Shafi (1920) in Gerrard Street, which catered for London’s 1,800 Indian students.
But it took an Englishman, Edward Palmer, to make Indian restaurants fashionable for ‘whiteys’. He opened Veeraswamy, which still thrives in Regent
Street, in 1926. He had been brought up in India; his great-grandfather was a British general, his great-grandmother the daughter of the Nizam of Hyderabad.
Most importantly for our generation, it is at Veeraswamy that lager was first drunk with curry, at the request of the Prince of Denmark. And it is here that I launched my autumnal tour. For the most part I was accompanied by Ferdie, The Oldie’s editorial assistant, who believes that vegan dal is the real test of overall excellence. Although Veeraswamy is expensive, the dishes featuring pastry – veggie Raj Kachori and Patiala Shahi Raan (lamb shank cooked for six hours) – were the winners of the whole tour. However, the dal score was 6/10.
Next stop Indian Zing in Hammersmith, which for years has been my default setting when I’m seeking a passage to India. Make sure one of you orders the Duck Chettinad. Dal score: 8/10. If you’re worried about feeling bloated, head 400 yards down the road to London’s best-value Thai restaurant, the Formica-tabled Thai 101, where the North Thai menu changes almost by the hour; the spicy salads are unmissable at just £8.
Then to Edinburgh to treat my son and his four student flatmates, who are so poor they have forsworn baths and heating this term. Mother India’s Café near the Old College was my favourite restaurant of the tour, despite its describing its dishes as ‘Indian tapas’. How has this term for Spanish bar snacks become an endorsement of other cuisines? The joint was rammed and noisy – but so it should be, given the prices and food, and you can always order a takeaway. Dal score: 9/10.
Ferdie then insisted we visit Manchester’s Curry Mile. Our first choice was teetotal; so we rushed to Ziya Asian Grill. It was here that Ferdie ascended into lentil heaven. He fanned himself with dal fumes, and convinced himself that he had levitated, while I went to the loo. Dal score: 11/10.