East Villa, East Bay St, Nassau

I had driven past East Villa's sign boasting 'Fine Chinese cuisine and World famous Steaks' on my way home many a time, thinking it was a bit far fetched. Chinese food (or what we get in the Western world) is like entry-level Asian cuisine, I remember eating a fair bit as a kid and teenager but then losing interest in it after that. I always favour Thai or Japanese. Nevertheless, out of curiosity and for the greater good of Nassau on A Plate, I decided to put these wild claims to the test.

I arrived first and walked in. I was greeted with the smell of stale smoke and a mildly surprised reaction when I asked for a table for two. The inside was a real car crash in bad taste, with some dodgy neon lighting, varnished pine ceiling and a really unhygienic-looking carpet. I was given a wide choice of tables to pick from, as the restaurant was largely empty. An enormous laminated fold out menu was placed before me, which was almost as big as the Sunday Times. Uh oh. Too much choice did not bode well. Had these people never watched Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares? There were some Continental dishes such as lamb rack and the celebrated steaks but I ignored that section to concentrate on the Chinese food. Typical dishes such as Lemon Chicken ($18.50) and Sweet and Sour Pork ($12.50) featured.

The Juggernaut waltzed in, looking mildly concerned. I ordered some baby friendly jasmine tea and J had a Tsing Tao beer. We were immediately brought over a bowl of dried cardboard strips, which resembled hamster food and some dips, one of which was incredibly strong mustard, made from powder. How very random! And wrong. There was some sort of sweet mango thing too. I wasn’t remotely tempted to try them but J was the guinea pig and dipped a tentative fingertip into the sauces.

J said you could judge a Chinese restaurant by its spring rolls, so we ordered some vegetable ones for $5. After studying the menu for a while, we settled on Schezuan shrimp with scallions, ginger, red pepper in rice wine sauce ($23) and Moo Shoo chicken- shredded and combined with wood ear mushrooms, bamboo shoots, cabbage with pancakes and plum sauce ($18.50) and some baby bok choy ($11.95).

The Spring rolls, arrived, one each. They were okay, crispy enough and well fried but clearly from a packet. A bit bland if I’m honest.

A while later, our main courses arrived. This was the real test. My shrimp were smothered in a disturbing red gloop. What the hell was this? I tried one. Lukewarm prawns in jam. It reminded me of the so-called Mango chutney at the Taj Mahal. Some spring onions scattered on top for decoration. In fact, to say it was like jam is an insult to jam! There was no ginger to be found; I think it had left the building. I ate one more to be sure and then pushed the offensive creatures away. What an undignified death for those poor shrimp. J declared it the worst Schezuan dish he had had in his life. It came with a vat of plain rice, which was a welcome respite from the sickliness. The Moo Shoo chicken was nothing to write home about; a sort of fried mess of chicken and vegetables; there were no discernable flavours here. The plum sauce it came with was an unctuous treacle-like tar, to be used with extreme caution. The ‘homemade’ pancakes were quite good though. The bok choy was sort of a saving grace, crunchy with a generous amount of garlic. Everything had a liberal sprinkling of MSG over it. My poor unborn baby’s first experience of Chinese was not great. Sorry Peanut. We managed about half of our dinner before emancipating ourselves from culinary induced depression. The discarded plates of gloop stared sorrily back at us whilst waiting to be cleared. I realised that there were no Chinese people eating here. The fact that there were other diners at all was a small miracle. The staff were surprisingly buoyant considering the dreary atmosphere that pervaded the room. Later on that night, it all came back to haunt me in a bout of fever. I really only have four words to sum up East Villa; Do Not Come Here.

Spritz, Olde Towne Marina, Sandyport

Spritz, an aperitif consisting of wine sparkling water and liquer is an apt choice of name for this revamped canalside bar and restaurant. Opened last October, it was just the pick me up that the Old towne area of Sandypants badly needed. Its previous incarnation was possibly called Barnacles and a rather sad and empty place, languishing on the rocks.

Under new management, the team behind the News cafe, Spritz seems to be positively fizzing with energy.

The Juggernaut and I popped down for dinner last weekend. It was alive and kicking, with bodies filling the bar area and tables outside. There were as drinkers as there were diners, with a healthy dose of kids added to the mix. Clearly this place has quite the following now. It was as noisy as a busy pub on a Friday night after work. Having neglected to book, we were lucky to get a table. The makeover was attractive and simple; with dark exposed beams, pendant lights and fairy lights twinkle away. Nautical touches abounded, from rope-clad columns to anchor patterned upholstery, which managed to avoid looking too cheesy. The gaps in the wooden decking went straight down to the canal below. Lo and behold anyone who might drop a credit card, wedding ring or car keys down the slot. There could be quite a collection lurking in those waters.

The menu was filled with crowd-pleasing Italian inspired fare, from appetisers such as tomato bruschetta with feta and oregano ($8) and involtini di melanzane ($10) to enticing pastas such as Orechiette with pancetta, spicy tomato and arugula ($19) ), Linguine with shrimp and zucchini ($24), entrees like grilled salmon with Mediterranean dressing ($26), pork tenderloin wrapped in prosciutto with lemon and sage ($28) and Ossobucco di Vitello alla Milanese ($30). Prices were fair and square for this island, actually pretty damn reasonable. J was ravenous and ordered some deep fried calamari with tomato and herb dip ($12) immediately. We also ordered some San Pelegrino and kicked back in the pretty bistro chairs. Our friend JB joined us and we ordered one of three Pinot grigios on the menu, the ubiquitous Santa Margherita.  Meanwhile we strained to hear each other speak. The wine was slow to make an appearance and despite an abundance of waiters, we had to chase it up. Our sweet waiter came over to inform us that our drop of choice wasn’t sufficiently cooled, so we opted for one of other Pinot Grigios on the menu. No one likes a lukewarm glass of white wine and with my pregnancy-induced-two-drink-a-week-limit, I ain’t settling for no below par beverage. Our poor waiter, under mounting pressure to open the damn bottle, proceeded to snap the corkscrew. We placed our orders and strained to hear each other speak. It was so bloody loud that conversation became rather difficult. The Juggernaut offered one of his architectural pearls of wisdom; ‘This place needs some sort of acoustical material to absorb sound.” Hmm, yes, quite.

Our food arrived in good time. My Penne Portobello ($20) was a steamy pile of heavenly smelling pasta, woven with strands of spinach and mushroom. The sauce was delicious, with the picant notes of gorgonzola balancing the creaminess. Very well made. My unborn baby was in for a treat. J had the chicken breast with Marsala sauce, roast potatoes, carrots and broccoli. It was like a proper Sunday roast,  really satisfying. JB had a rib eye steak with roast potatoes and grilled peppers, zucchini and eggplant. He seemed very pleased with how it was cooked but like a teenage boy, didn’t eat any of his vegetables. I can’t tell you what both of these cost but I think they were around the thirty dollar mark.The hearty portions obliterated any need for dessert, although the chocolate and orange cake and homemade rum and raisin ice cream would have been my choice. Instead we got some espressos. The Juggernaut had a great big whisky, whilst JB opted for a beer. It was the start of booze fuelled odyssey for them, while I looked wistfully, trying to recall the last time I got drunk and looking forward to the next time I could. Apart from the noisiness, I must say I’m a big fan of Spritz. The food is delicious, unpretentious and affordable. A breath of life has restored this deserted area behind the gas station. The residents of Sandypants are well catered for here. It was a smart move to ensure longevity. Spritz is as refreshing as its namesake. I hope it’s here to stay.

Brussels Bistro Frederick St Downtown

Twas another Tuesday night and not a lot was happening, so the Juggernaut and I ventured off to dine at the Brussels Bistro. Previous visits had not been disappointing. Continental cuisine was calling. Oui monsieur. I’m rather fond of this bijoux restaurant, with it’s wooden panelling, wall sconces and yellow glass lighting. Gallic music (accordions) sets a romantic tone. You feel a bit like you’re on holiday. They were enjoying a healthy weeknight trade with only a couple of tables to spare. Mind you, it doesn’t take too many people to fill the joint. We were seated with menus and offered drinks. J had a glass of pinot noir whilst I stuck to Perrier water; one of the joys of being pregnant. The menu has a quote from the famous gourmet (never heard of him) Arthur Buchwald. He wrote that ‘the best food in the world is French and the best French food is in Brussels.’  Come to think of it, Belgian and French food do seem pretty similar.  Who has a claim on Moules et Frites? They do a great line in them here but only on Thursdays to Saturdays, when they are flown in from Canada.  Quelle domage. Always on the menu are Gallic classics Escargots $14.95 and frogs’ legs with garlic butter $14.95. I am just too squeamish to try them. They taste just like chicken, apparently. My Dad always told us not to eat with our eyes. Well, I can’t. We were brought some bread and butter, on a neat little wooden board with recesses for the butter dish and knife. I like to have something to eat straight away; more so at the moment, as my appetite makes urgent and sudden demands on me. We had a starter each. J had the soup of the day; Cream of broccoli, for $6.50. Intensely green, well seasoned and just creamy enough; it was well made and pleasingly presented in an earthenware bowl with a handle. Homemade comfort. Extra bread was brought to us with tongs. J said it was the best soup he’d had in a while, as he happily slurped away. My salade maison $8.50 consisted of frisee lettuce, tomatoes, slivers of carrot and green beans coated in a fantastic vinaigrette. The perfect emulsion. Ah, the joy of a good salad. Max the manager saw me scribbling notes and smelt a rat; he came over and asked what I was up to. I had to spill the beans and tell him I was reviewing it. The service had been great up until then but it went up a notch. J got offered another glass of wine. It arrived almost instantly, much fuller than the last one. The slight wait for our main course wasn’t an issue as we’d put away quite a lot of delicious bread. Max kept us updated on our food’s progress and offered an apology. I had the baked salmon with béarnaise and a hearty dollop of Stoemp- a chunky mashed potato and carrot dish, with a healthy amount of butter in it. The salmon was a tad overcooked but still tasty. The béarnaise was a bit too vinegary but otherwise of a good consistency. The Stoemp was an absolute winner though. The Juggernaut went for gold with the Surf and Turf special $38.95. A juicy looking filet steak with béarnaise and half a lobster with garlic butter. Some grilled vegetables brought colour and vitamins to the plate. The steak was perfectly tender and medium rare but the lobster was a bit on the dry side, even borderline tough. I’m pretty sure he ate it all though.Given my license to eat, well, more at the moment, we had pre-ordered a soufflé with Grand Marnier in it. The booze tasted pretty intense to my palate, which has been alcohol deprived for the last few months. To J, it was a more subtle flavour. A soufflé is notoriously tough to pull off; many a Masterchef contestant has fallen at this hurdle, with failure to rise. It was marginally overdone but still good…it’s not something you see on many menus and as such, is quite a treat. Two pert macchiatos followed with some gorgeous little Belgian biscuits. We were the last table in the restaurant but not made to feel rushed.The Brussels bistro makes good, simple food with heart. It aims to please without showing off. I always leave with a warm fuzzy feeling, of having been taken care of. C’est bon, mes amies.

RAW ON DA PORCH Fifth Terrace Palmdale

As we near the end of January, New Years Resolutions to eat well and do more exercise may have fallen flat. Whilst I’m not one to make radical changes that are impossible to maintain, I reckon purging yourself of the badness every once in a while has to be done. Your gut flora will thank you for it. Incorporating healthier food into your diet all year round is the only way forward . And it needn’t mean rabbit food and hunger pangs. One pioneer flying the flag for healthy eating in Nassau is Raw on da Porch. With a name that sounds more like a hip hop night than an vegan eaterie, Raw on da Porch is dishing out funky fresh eats that will challenge any preconceptions about vegan food being bland. The owner, Chrissy Love, cares deeply about the food we eat, albeit not in a holier-than-though way. Raw on the Porch was borne out of a personal need to eat well, lose weight and be healthy. She is the proof of the pudding; brimming with energy and charisma. In a nutshell, Raw foodism is the practice of consuming uncooked, unprocessed food which has not been heated above 115F. Raw foodies believe that foods cooked above this temperature have lost much of their nutritional value and are less healthful or even harmful to the body.

Located in Palmdale, Raw is a modest hut with a couple of wooden tables outside. Open during the day, it provides weekday lunches to locals. I brought my lovely blond friend. Having both been here a few times already, we were aware that we might have to wait a bit for our lunch. As Chrissy acknowledges “ Our clients know that our food is not fast, it’s good. Thanks for your patience.” Good things do come to those who wait.

Quirky dishes with cute names like ‘Ish’ and ‘Nibs’ make up the menu. Everything is made using only nuts, seeds, vegetables, fruits and oils. I started off with a small Green Smoothie ($5); a palatable way to get your quota of greens. Kale and Spirulina are blended with some banana and ginger to make them taste, well, nice. You can just feel the goodness running down your throat as you slurp it.

We opted to share the Thai Salad wrap ($10) and the Sample Platter ($15). A shorter than usual wait and our food arrived, beautifully presented. The Thai Salad Wrap was a pretty parcel of rice paper, jam-packed with lettuce, tomatoes, carrot, ginger, red and green cabbage, avocado, cucumber and sesame seeds, accompanied by a soy sauce and garlic dip. It had great texture and was filled with flavour. So clean and revatilising. The sample platter was truly a ‘ting’ of beauty. It was made up of three dishes; the Scramble bowl; Ish and Chips and Nori Nibs. The Scramble bowl was fried vegan burger with sweet onions, tomato, thyme topped with fried plaintain. It was partnered with vegan coleslaw with a creamy mustardy dressing. Chrissy told how the dish was inspired by ghetto food. Her mother used to make a meal for their large family with one burger and lots of onion. This was an animal friendly versions and every bit as tasty. The Nori nibs were seaweed wrapped salad, like sushi. A bijoux portion of Ish and chips ( a play on fish and chips) consisted of a tuna-inspired concoction, made with chopped sea lettuce, garlic, almonds onions and lime, accompanied by vegetable crisps, almost like a chunky nutritious dip. Sounds a bit suspect I know but seriously moreish.

All of this was quite filling but again, in the name of research, we had to check out the dessert options. There very various ‘nice creams’; non dairy alternatives to ice cream. We opted for a paper cone of Sugar Apple ($5). I had yet to try this local fruit. It tasted unlike anything I’d eaten before. The flavour was intense, interesting but quite acidic. An acquired taste I’d say. Not sure if it’s for me. Hats off for originality though.

There is a lot of skill involved in the presentation and assembly of the food, not to mention in the cooking. Making vegan food taste great and provide all the necessary nutrients ain’t no easy task. Chrissy really has a finely tuned palate and understanding of food that could win over many a die-hard carnivore.

We left full of the joys of spring, promising to return soon. I urge you to go if you haven’t yet. It is lip smackingly good.

Harbourfront Lounge East Bay Street

I do love a Wednesday night out. Halfway through the week, with the previous weekend’s shenanigans behind me, I am ready and eager to venture out again. The Harbourfront lounge is also a fan of Wednesdays. On said night, they host a weekly Supper Club; offering a special menu of whatever takes the chef’s fancy. The Juggernaut and I needed little encouragement to go and check it out. Greeted with a rapturous reception, we immediately felt at ease. We took a table I the atmospheric courtyard, with its clay coloured walls sheltered by Sail awning and strings of lightbulbs. A gas fire in the centre lent a welcoming glow. I liked this place so far

Pleasant acoustic guitar playing on the speakers  gave rise to a relaxed bohemian atmosphere. The combination of gourmet menu in a laid back setting was a winning one. I could happily while away many an hour here.

My eyes lit up on seeing tonight’s theme; Lobster fiesta. What could be better? Food of the gods from local waters with an international spin. First things first. Wine. Our waiter suggested the Noble Torrontes Sauvignon/Chardonnay blend from Argentina,  a new additio n to the cellar, smooth with a fruity after taste. We took his word for it and ordered it.

The ‘boutique’ list was largely made up of wines from Argentina South Africa and the USA and included Fume Blanc and Pinot Noir, two of my faves.

 After perusing the tempting menu for some time, we placed our order. A bit greedy, admittedly. Hard to resist the spiny sweet fleshed suckers. A visit to the was a bit of a let down coming from the cosy earthy of the courtyard. Clearly this area had avoided the renovation that the main part of the restaurant had seen. The ladies was clad in pink granny chic tiles with matching coloured toilets. It wasn’t cool or ironic. Just wrong. This area was in dire need of some attention. When I returned the food had arrived. Don’t you love it when that happens?

Lobster and green mango summer rolls with chilli lime dipping sauce ($12) were beautifully constructed. The delicate white parcels on a mat of black nori were almost too pretty to ruin by eating. The rolls were clean and sharp. The sweet saltiness of the dipping sauce offset this beautifully. The flavours of Thailand in a mouthful.  Bravo.

The creamy lobster chowder ($12) was a bowl of soul food. Love and pride had gone into making this dish. Comforting and hearty, eating this was like wrapping yourself in a cashmere blanket in front of a log fire. The highly recommended Lobster Levelle was a lobster tail in garlic sherry cream sauce with Basmati rice and asparagus ($39). The indulgent sauce coated morsels of lobster nestled in the shell. My tastebuds did a little dance in my mouth. Heaven on a plate. The only disappointment was the Lobster and vegetable tempura with ponzu dipping sauce ($21). Great lovers of Japanese cuisine The Juggernaut and I are great lovers of Japanese cuisinebut sadly this lacked the finesse that great tempura demands. Heavy batter dragged the lobster and its vegetabes down.

A short break for digestion and thoughts turned to dessert. There were some stodgy puddings on offer, namely guava duff, key lime pie and chocolate brownie. They would push us over the edge. Instead we ordered some mango gelato. A huge mound arrived, more than we could cope with. It was too sweet for me; more intense mango flavours would have been welcome.

I looked around the cosy courtyard, genuinely baffled as to why more tables weren’t occupied. The food, service and atmosphere were on the whole pretty favourable. The a la carte menu offers international tapas, gourmet pizzas, pastas, seafood. A great mish mash of cuisines. I’m a fan of the Harbourfront Lounge. If you haven’t gone lately or at all, you should give it a whirl.

Blu, Elizabeth on Bay

Blu is the new kid on the block, the hot new dining and drinking spot to see and be seen in downtown Nassau. The Juggernaut and I decided to see what all the fuss was about and go for a quiet weeknight dinner. Greeted by a hostess at the door, we were led through the bar area of Blu, which was largely empty, except for a well-groomed party having a pre dinner aperitif and a smattering of diners. It felt very much like a nightclub with its dark wooden interior, crystal pendants and gleaming granite bar. High-end finishes were everywhere. The Juggernaut described it as ‘global sleek modernism’. Walking out onto the deck, I had a sudden flashback of my visit to Sydney in ‘02. A million dollar view of twinkling cruise ships and yachts bobbing in the evening breeze gave real wow factor. Expensive looking parasols and trendy rattan furniture furnished the deck. The owner, Bryn, came over and gave us a tour of the premises, proudly showing us round the upstairs lounge areas and private dining room. His mission was to create a restaurant that was miles away from the cheesy haunts that dominated the island’s waterfront. He wanted to make people feel they were no longer in Nassau and without doubt he has definitely succeeded. Although there are nods to Bahamian style, in the woven ceiling fans and palms, you could be anywhere. The setting really is breathtaking. Hats off to him for choice of location. I can foresee many a marriage proposal taking place on its deck. We sat down and studied the menu. A cross section of Mediterranean dishes with a few Moroccan ones thrown in. There was paella, seafood risotto, beef tenderloin with greek potato, duck confit. The Juggernaut and I were ravenous and tucked into the bread with relish. A basket of foccacia with flavoured dipping oils of paprika, arugula, chilli and incredible balsamic vinegar, it was a promising start. We ordered a bottle of French Pinot noir, easy drinking table plonk. Ahhhhhh. We shared the Bunuelos de Bacalao ($14); salt cod and potato cakes, a dish originating in Catalunya, Spain, where my father is from. I was understandably dubious of ordering these. It came on a chic rectangular plate, drenched in a pepperonata sauce. The cod cakes were crispy and succulent, nicely made. I felt the sauce let the dish down; it was overpowering and almost suffocated the fish. I think some allioli would have been a better choice of sauce here. Clearing our plates, the waiter asked if we needed any extra silver ware, which we clearly did. Meanwhile, our main courses arrived. My wild mushroom ravioli with cognac cream sauce ($32) was placed before me. The divine scent wafted teasingly up to my nose. J’s slow cooked lamb tagine with couscous sat patiently awaiting cutlery. We were left salivating for a few moments before we could attack our food. Expertly cooked, homemade pasta, with a woody, pungent flavour. The taste of autumn. J had the Lamb shank tagine ($38). A hearty hunk of lamb coated in a deep, rich sauce, full of the joys of Morrocco. Soft meat fell off the bone. A man’s dish. We had a bit of a pause before attempting dessert. The options included a selection of cheeses with mango compote and foccacia chips ($15), a warm chocolate fondant cake with chocolate chilli gelato ($12). We went for the trio of desserts; a tasting plate of tiramisu, chocolate and amaretto cheesecake, both presented in shot glasses and a baklava. It looked pretty enough. There were dots of raspberry coulis artfully placed in the middle of the plate with a mint leaf, such a classic dessert garnish. The tiramisu was a bit sickly for me, bland. The cheesecake had no texture. What is the point of a cheesecake with no crunch? Bah! The baklava was a bit sad; dry and crumbly. It was an anticlimax after the success of the previous course.A sting in the tail was when the bill arrived, charging $6 for a single espresso. Really? Ouch. All in all, there were some flashes of brilliance in this snazzy establishment. The service was very attentive and aimed to please. There are many dishes I’d like to sample here. I bet they make a mean cocktail too. I hope it does well. I’ll be back.

Taj Mahal, Parliament Street, Nassau

The Taj Mahal

When we lived in England, going for a curry was usually a group activity, a natural progression after a night in the pub. The Juggernaut and I were avid members of the Tooting Curry Club, which was basically an excuse to meet up with our mates every now and then and make our way round  the curry houses of London. Happy days. Our weekends would often end with a takeaway, if we couldn’t be arsed to cook on a Sunday night. As we hadn’t been for an Indian since arriving in Nassau, we weren't quite sure what to expect.Many of the people I’d asked about the Taj Mahal either hadn’t been there at all or hadn’t been in years. Those who had quite liked the food and ambience. The Taj Mahal is housed in a vibrantly coloured building, whose façade I had always admired. I opened the door to a mild whiff of cumin and body odour. The familar smell of curry houses on Brick lane in East London. The dark low-ceilinged foyer looked just like an old man’s boozer in the provinces of Britain. A throwback from the colonial days of old. There were two doors; one led to the restaurant, one to the pub. Slightly baffled, I opened the former.

Inside it felt like an empty pub at Christmas time. Tables were laid with red and green, gold poinsettias and other garish decorations festooned the dining area. Happy Indian music was playing to add to the joy. The floor was fitted with an immaculate checked carpet; a brave choice for restaurant flooring I felt. There was a lone male diner. Other diners came and went throughout our dinner but didn’t linger long. I needn’t have booked a table for nine. J and I ordered a beer; the only drink to have with curry, and perused the weighty menu while we awaited the rest of our party.The appetisers included such staples as Meat Samosas ($10.95) and Onion Bhajis ($8.95). Curries included the usual Chicken Tikka Masala ($17.95); possibly the most popular dish in Britain, Butter chicken ($21.95), Lamb Jalfrezi ($27.95) , Dopiaza and Rogan Josh. Most dishes could be ordered mild, medium or hot, with the exception of the Vindaloo which just came one way; hot as hell. Each dish was served with steamed rice. I was surprised to see Beef dishes on the menu as cows are sacred in India. Eating beef is a huge taboo and killing a cow can even lead to imprisonment. I began to doubt the authenticity of this place. We decided to order a load of curries and share them, along with a variety of Naan breads; garlic, butter, cheese and my top choice, Peshwari. Ah, it really had been too long since I last had an Indian.

We ordered a load of Poppadums with Mango Chutney for the table. The Poppadums had a slightly fishy taste, maybe from the oil they were fried in. Despite this they were perfectly ok. The real problem was the so-called Mango Chutney. Watery, radioactive-red jam. It had never even so much as shaken hands with a mango. This didn’t bode well at all. Not long afterwards big warm plates were brought out in anticipation of our main courses. Stainless steel boats bearing steaming curries garnished with coriander were brought out on a tray. The moment of truth had arrived. My Chicken Jalfrezi tasted pretty good, although it’s heat was quite harsh, it got you at the back of the throat. The Chicken Tikka Masala was so brightly coloured you could have seen it from outer space. The Lamb Gosht Bhuna was a favourite, with it’s pungent, unctuous sauce which clung to the chunks of meat. The aromatic chickpea curry, whose name escapes me, was a winner. However, the Vindaloo was brutal; it was so fiery you could barely tell what meat it contained. I just remember downing beer fast after trying it. We desperately needed more beer on the table. The waitresses had a tendency to huddle around the corner whenever we wanted to order more drinks. The portions were generous; you easily could share a curry with some sides. Needless to say, everyone had a little pot for lunch the following day.

When offered dessert, nobody could recall ever having tried anything Indian before. We were always to full or too drunk at that stage to order it. Nevertheless, out of curiosity I had a peek at the menu. Rice pudding, Gajar ka Halwa; young sweet carrots grated and cooked in milk, sugar syrup and almonds and various exotic fruits with syrup. No thanks. All a bit sickly for my tastes. All in all, it was a lot of fun. A bit pricey for what we had. Of course I’ve had better. I’d come back again to go to the pub. Whenever I feel homesick, I could imagine I’m back in England and order a pint with my portion of chickpeas. You won’t catch me touching the mango chutney though.