Dishoom, 12 Upper St Martin’s Lane, Covent Garden

Those of you who are familiar with this blog (all 14 of you) will have read about my curry-love before. You may also be familiar with my rather disorganised approach to choosing when and which restaurants to review. I realise therefore, that you’ll almost certainly have already read several reviews of Dishoom, the new(ish) Bombay cafe-style restaurant on St Martin’s Lane.

However, if pornography has taught us anything, it’s that there is always a market for variations on a theme. I hadn’t been to Dishoom when others were reviewing it, but I’ve been now.

The all-day menu at Dishoom is intriguing, encompassing breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks. Its Indian classics, such as Sheekh kebab, biryani and daal, sit playfully alongside some less conventional Anglo-Indian items, like Desi fish fingers, sausage naan roll, chilli cheese toast and porridge.

We arrived at 8.30 on a Saturday evening. There’s no booking, but we were given a table for five within minutes – a refreshing change from certain other London restaurants with no-booking policies. The restaurant was full, but it didn’t feel cramped, the faux art deco decor creating an illusion of space and style similar to what you find in The Wolesley, though not as posh. Dishoom’s a nice looking place, with a nice atmosphere, nice staff, and for the most part, nice food.

It’s one of those places that serves you your food as it’s ready, in no particular order. This increasingly trendy idea is a fairly crap one, but Dishoom navigates it by bringing just about everything quickly. First out were lamb samosas, cafe crisps and keema pau (spiced lamb mince with buttered bread). The samosas were uninspiring – lots of crispiness but not much flavour – while the cafe crisps were offcuts from the samosas: pastry, essentially. No matter, the accompanying chutneys were excellent.


The keema pau told a different story. Its delicate, sweet spicing and excellent texture were only slight ruined by accompanying buttered burger buns. These made an odd contribution, an early example of a recurring weakness for too much Anglo in the more Anglo-influenced dishes. On that theme, the Desi fish fingers were pretty miserable, their spongy texture and uninteresting batter singularly failing to raise the dish much above what you might expect of a rather less salubrious fast food joint.




If it sounds like I’m complaining, then it should, but only really because the weak dishes are so unnecessary. The house black daal was magnificently buttery, while the accompanying garlic naan was thin, delicate and crispy. Spicy lamb chops were decent, though a couple were slightly burnt, and the day’s special vegetable Ruby Murray was sublime. A paneer and mushroom Roomali Roll would make an excellent lunch on its own, though didn’t quite work as part of a dinner – it’s an Indian burrito, more or less; chicken berry biryani was as subtle and richly textured as you could justifiably expect for £7.50. Add copious quantities of bottled Meantime to the mix, and Dishoom has pretty much nailed the quick and tasty experience for this location.


Even the desserts were pretty good - not always the case in Indian restaurants. We tried passion fruit and ginger Gola ice and pistachio Kulfi on a stick. Both were perfectly fine, refreshing and sweet.


The service is efficient and smiley, which is good, though they did manage to serve one of our number salt water instead of tap water. An odd choice, I’m sure you’ll agree. At less than £25 per head, Dishoom is far better value than most places in the area. Indeed, as a pre- or post- theatre venue, you’d be hard pushed to find many better places - it is curry, after all.

Phil Letts' take: 7/10

Mem & Laz, 8 Therberton Street, Islington

Gordon Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares used to be a good watch. Crazy people running restaurants badly is a funny idea. Unfortunately, after the first three episodes, it became clear that the show’s approach was a formulaic as its presenter’s angry shtick. These days, Gordon needs only to walk into a restaurant for us to know that the following is wrong with it: bad management, terrible decor and a messy, over-complicated menu. His ‘advice’ can usually be boiled down to three words: keep it simple.

Mem & Laz is not a kitchen nightmare. It’s a busy and economical option in an area not known for its bargains. But it could learn something from everyone’s favourite Scottish swearbag. The menu needs to be much shorter and far simpler. Looking again on the website, I count 88 dishes on the main menu (including desserts but not including side dishes). There was also a separate specials list of about 8 the night we visited. That’s a whole lot of dishes, even for a restaurant that bills itself with the rather unspecific ‘Mediterranean’ label.


There were only two of us, so this review only covers about 4 per cent of the available menu. Sorry about that.

My starter was a special seafood salad at £4.95. It had some octopus and small prawns in it, as well lots of slighty unpleasant lemony vinegar to dress, and assorted leaves and salady bits, none of which were particularly inspiring. It was ok. On the plus side, it was enormous – easily big enough for a main dish.


On the other side of the table was the ‘Deep fried trio of cheeses’ with cranberry sauce and mixed leaves. The camembert was rich and interesting, unlike the brie and mozzarella, which were flavourless and rubbery. The cranberry sauce was sweet and red, which is something. The mixed leaves were mixed and leafy. Again though, if assessed purely by weight, this was a good deal.


Mains were large too. I had pan-fried chicken livers with bacon, spinach and red onion salad. I hate to think how many chickens died in the making of this dish, but I’d guess at 20 or so. To be fair, the livers were nicely cooked, if a bit lacking in flavour. The raw red onion that turned up in every mouthful rather overpowered everything else, I’m afraid, even the gigantic bits of bacon.


Chargrilled lamb chops with red wine sauce, potato and Mediterranean vegetables came recommended by the efficient and friendly waiter. They were probably the best things we ate – generously portioned, quite well cooked (but quite well-cooked as well, if you know what I mean) and with a gloopy red wine sauce that looked like bisto but tasted better.

All this was accompanied be a really very good bottle of Tempranillo. At £11.95, this was my favourite discovery of the meal.

Mem & Laz is essentially a restaurant for students. The portions are truly mind-boggling, the food is inoffensive, and the location and atmosphere are pretty good. We spent £41 pounds between us on more food than we could possibly eat and a bottle of very decent wine. That’s pretty unusual in this, or any other part of town. What’s more, with the largest menu I think I’ve ever seen, you’re almost bound to find something you can eat.

Phil Lett’s take: 5/10

Kadiri's, 26 Willesden High Road, Willesden

Cecil Rhodes once claimed that to be born an Englishman is to have won the lottery of life. While that was possibly true when he wrote it, and may even be true now to a degree, it has never applied to food. I’ve always thought that to be born Italian is to have won the lottery of eating. But even the Italians, with all that olive oil, all those tomatoes, and all that pasta, even the Italians don’t make curry.

One day, I’ll write a book about curry houses I’ve known and loved. From Tamarind to Tayyabs, The Painted Heron to The Lahore Kebab House, if the answer isn’t curry, then the question’s wrong. Whether it costs 80 pounds and boasts a Michelin star or sets you back a tenner and lets you bring your own booze, this food is always the right option.


Now, I’ve been to a lot of curry houses in London. The very best fall into two camps: the cheap, cheerful and sizzling, and the expensive, refined and subtle. Geographically, the places to go are out East, or Wembley way, or in Southall (which is so far West it’s not even really London). There are a couple of crackers in town too, in Mayfair and Soho. In my experience, West London and slightly North West has always been a little bit of a curry hinterland. Yes, there are restaurants. Some of them are fine. But I’ve never been to a really brilliant one.

So when I heard positive things about Kadiri’s in scruffy Willesden, I wasn’t expecting too much. The menu looked the part, but still, it was in Willesden.

So how was it? Good. Very good.

We couldn’t decide what to eat, but after the obligatory popadums – thin, delicate and not at all greasy – we decided to go for broke. It’s a sign of a really good place when the menu inclines you towards the vegetable curries, and with chana daal, paneer with spinach and coconut (palak paneer), and aubergine curry, we were so inclined. But limiting yourself is no good either, so we also ordered a ‘small’ mixed grill and the house speciality, mutton biryani, just to ensure we had enough. Oh, and pesharwi naan too. And mango lassis.

They came together at our request, but I’ll deal with them in the order, roughly, that I tried them. First, the grill, where lamb chops were explosively flavoured with ginger and garam masala, tandoori chicken was colourful and lamb mince kababs were juicy and chilli-heavy. For a small portion, it was enormous - £11.95 for ten large, beautifully cooked pieces of meat. I always think you can tell a lot about a curry restaurant by its lamb chops. Kadiri’s, while not in the same league as the best I’ve ever had (The Lahore Kebab House in Whitechapel), were great. Probably in the top five.


The other litmus dish for a curry house is daal. And boy, this daal was good - garlic and burnt garlic, salt and turmeric, spilt chickpeas and all sorts of other goodness. On the thin, sweet peshawri naan, stuffed with mango, the daal was truly wonderful, though you'll taste the garlic for days afterwards.

The aubergine curry was less exciting, but also perfectly cooked. Often, aubergine in curry disintegrates. Sometimes, it’s too greasy. Occasionally, it gets lost in the other flavours, all the onions and cumin and paprika. This did none of those things. It was a relatively unambitious, well-executed and no-nonsense dish. It was delicious.


I’ve never liked paneer. I’ve always lumped it in with halloumi as a cheese that is invariably badly cooked. If I want to chew rubber, I’ll ... um, perhaps not. But a visit to Greece earlier this year taught me that I was wrong about halloumi. And Kadiri’s taught me that I had misjudged paneer too. This was glorious. The spinach and coconut sauce was not too sweet, though it felt creamy and indulgent. But the revelation was the texture of the cheese itself, soft but coherent, and with none of that horrible squeaky texture I used to dread.

Lastly, there was the house special, complete with kitsch earthenware pot. In a meal with many highlights, this was the highest lit. The mutton was so slow cooked as to be melting. The surrounding rice was cardamom and saffron heavy. The ensemble was luxurious and slightly fatty – so rich and yet, still, so clean. I’ve never had one like it, but I will have it again.

Unfortunately, there were just two of us, and my wife, Cute Letts, had eaten some chips after work so hadn’t brought her A-game appetite. We had lots left over. The excellent waiting staff barely batted an eyelid when we asked them to box it all up for us to take home. I’ve had it twice since. We spent £60 pounds on this meal, including service and a before unmentioned large bottle of sparkling water, and it was worth every penny. If we’d have ordered sensibly (i.e., just the paneer, daal and mutton), it would have been less than half that.

They also do feasting dishes – one family had an entire leg of lamb come out while we were there. It looked great, and they devoured it in about 10 minutes. Perhaps the only thing to note is that the restaurant does not sell alcohol, and it doesn’t let you bring your own – no great problem, but worth knowing before you go.

I live in NW10, and now I have a restaurant locally that sells excellent curry (and delivers it). So I’m happy.

Phil Letts' take: 8/10

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It's not fancy, it's not big, and it's not clever, but the scrag end is delicious. In a world where every other person is a food blogger, and many even think that makes them important, it may just be time for a little humility. For simple, honest opinions on restaurants, recipes, supper clubs, caffs and kit, you've come to the right place.