I must begin with a confession; rather than eat in the restaurant itself, I ordered a takeaway. As cash-strapped students we had balked at the idea of not being able to BYOB. In my defence, to receive the 15% discount, I went to collect the order. In doing so I ended up waiting nearly 20 minutes (having already allowed for the 50 minute wait time the owner had stipulated). With a growling stomach I sat watching the fully booked service and could see that the diners were ostensibly enjoying the food, and being looked after very well by the family that runs it. Lucky them. Also worth noting were the certificates on the wall for winning the Asian category in the 2013 Oxfordshire Restaurant Awards, as well at the Oxford Boys’ Curry Club Golden Popadom Award. The latter sounds fantastic – if there’s a Girls’ Club then sign me up. Poor marks for the long wait, but understandable given the packed restaurant, and in the end certainly worth it. So, can you write a review of a takeaway? I think so.
Having never, to my knowledge, tried Nepalese food, and feeling a bit overwhelmed by the new vocabulary, I directed my uninitiated eyes towards the Chef’s Specials. I plumped with a lamb patan masu; spiced lamb with green chilli, peppers and tomato sauce. Here, I made a mistake I’ve not yet managed with curries in the UK. What the internet neglected to mention, which the hard copy of the menu in the restaurant informed me of, were the three red chillies sitting next to the title of the dish, denoting ‘v. hot’. I like ‘spicy’ food as much as the next person, but when the only other dish on the menu to receive this label is a vindaloo, you know things might get interesting. After trying a couple of mouthfuls, the runny nose, flushed cheeks and streaming eyes was invitation enough to add the entire pot of raita to it. I have to say, however, that despite the challenge it presented, it was delicious. From my more heat-hardened friend, I quote, “It’s the best curry I’ve ever tasted.”
To accompany this I picked something off the short, but different, vegetarian menu: bodi, tama, aloo (black eyed beans, bamboo shoots and potatoes with ginger and garlic to the layman). A somewhat milder dish, I ate it first when I knew my taste buds wouldn’t have gone into complete shock. It was not dissimilar to a dhal, but the Nepalese spices were completely different to those from neighbouring India, and perfectly balanced.
To be tried another time are the momo starters, which, as I was eyeing up the diners’ plates in the restaurant, looked exceptional. The menu now sits on our mantelpiece in pride of place, awaiting the next opportunity for a takeaway, which, as far as I’m concerned, should be tomorrow.
