Tag Archives: Indian

April 28

Jikoni. Coming in from the cold.

Is that the  Italian? I am asked this question each time I mention I am going to Jikoni. Full disclosure:  I am asked it four times. This puts it into the category of a slight issue.   Try saying it next to “Cecconi”. See?

March 10

Chutney Mary: the makeover.

My first impression is that they have spent a small fortune on the fit-out and my second is that I want to stay in the bar. Chutney Mary is the pimped-up reincarnation of the original restaurant of the same name which, until very recently plied its trade at the bottom end of the King’s Road. […]

July 03

Amaya. Rich pickings.

I feel like I’m five, says C, waving his arms high in the air and simulating an exaggerated knife and fork movement. The chairs in the raised section of the restaurant are too low or the tables are too high, it doesn’t matter which. Obviously, I point this out and the maître d’ suggests I might […]

November 20

Benares. Blinging it up in Berkeley Square.

We’re going to the Punchbowl, I tell J, it’s that pub in Mayfair, you know, the one that used to be owned by Guy Ritchie, when he was Madonna’s husband. For all I know, it  might still be a Ritchie venture but even if it is, we can be eternally grateful that we won’t be […]

August 31

Rasoi. Spice at a price.

There is practically no time when C has refused an invitation to a meal involving curry. He doesn’t like Trishna (uncomfortable chairs, the noise, the fussiness), or Benares (the complexity, the expense) and in this, as in much else, we disagree. Funnily enough, I didn’t mention that there might be fussiness at Rasoi, the brainchild […]

November 10

Gymkhana. For the Maharajas of Mayfair.

Gymkhana. I can’t help but think of those Thelwell cartoons. Little fat girls on even fatter ponies. Events that happen in the Home Counties. Rosettes. That sort of thing. I don’t automatically think sophisticated curry-house in Mayfair. My mistake. “Gymkhana” is, I now know, an Anglo-Indian expression, derived from the Persian and Urdu word “Jamat-khana”. Most […]

La Porte des Indes.

If you’ve been to one of those management courses they run at the adjacent hotel, you might have seen this. I’m not sure what made me turn left when I came out of the car park, rather than turning right, straight to my regular haunt, Roti Chai,  but we all make mistakes. Unusually for me, […]

Roti Chai. Street food. Sort of.

It was one of those days (and they seem to be increasing in frequency),where the thought of cooking for myself just didn’t appeal. I’d been in the office for 6 hours straight, on a Sunday and not any old Sunday but the one just before Christmas,  unpacking crates and dealing with nonsense emails. I’d had […]

Rasa – the one on Stoke Newington Church Street

I’ve been meaning to write something about Rasa for ages. Maybe it’s because it has been such part of my everyday life that it doesn’t feel like I’m “going” somewhere, but given that I have been there so many times, it seems ridiculous that I’ve never mentioned it.