On first impressions, I could never have guessed what a disappointment Qumin’s would be. The waiters were friendly, the surroundings were modern yet cosy and intimate, and the chairs were comfortable enough to relax into. My hopes were further raised by the menu, which offered less choice than many Indian restaurants, but which featured a number of unusual dishes. Several were available with a choice of either salmon, tuna, king prawns or squid, a refreshing variant on the typical Indian restaurant’s prawn curry. The first suggestion that service might be inefficient came when a waiter approached our table, asked if we wanted to order poppadoms, and then vanished before we could ask to order drinks. This lapse was adequately compensated for by the quality of the poppadoms, which were perfectly light and crunchy, accompanied by fine dips. The mango chutney was chunky and sweet without being cloying, a far cry from the jam-like slop served at many comparable establishments, while the raita was just right: minty enough to be refreshing, and not too thick.
Drinks, when they arrived, sharply contrasted. My companion enjoyed his mango lassi, which he assured me was suitably cold and had just the right consistency. My glass of house white, on the other hand, deserves no recommendation. Insipid, bland, and nauseatingly saccharine, its taste made me feel like a doctor in days of old, diagnosing diabetes by tasting the urine to gauge its sugar content. If my glass of wine had been a urine sample, my patient would have been severely hyperglycaemic.
When our food arrived – reasonably promptly – it was attractively presented on the plate. We had ordered one side dish, and started with that. The mutter paneer, a curry of peas and cottage cheese, was delicious; the cheese had a beautiful consistency and richness, complemented by a sauce that was neither too spicy nor too bland, accentuated by the naan bread I dipped into it. We had ordered two portions of rice, and first shared the special vegetable rice, which was not particularly flavoursome, but which, like the naan, did its job as an accompaniment well. The second portion of rice – lemon – had a more assertive taste, but I enjoyed it. It was the curries themselves which we found disappointing. The motali curry, which I asked for with king prawns, was bitter, hot and sour without tasting of very much. It contained large chunks of chilli, which if eaten whole delivered an unpleasantly intense kick. My companion’s Goan curry, on the other hand, was mild and creamy, but again didn’t taste of very much.
Qumin’s delivers some excellent dishes. Indeed, we enjoyed everything but the curries we ordered as our main course – and therein lies the problem. Both curries were over £10, with rice not included. Our bill, with one drink each and no dessert, came to a scandalous £44, which might have felt fair if our mains matched the quality of the starter and side dish, but in the circumstances I acutely resented. When my gallant date offered to pay, I didn’t even attempt to suggest going halves, because quite frankly I couldn’t afford to. That’s Qumin’s 1, feminism 0, then. While I would unreservedly recommend individual dishes on this menu, the poor quality of its curries is so lacking that I simply cannot recommend Qumin’s as a dining destination. But if you do end up eating here, do order the mutter paneer. And do prepare to grovel to your bank manager.
