Bombay Brasserie Then & Now

I grew up in the culinary wastelands of Luton. My love of good food came from my parents and family friends. Not only did mum teach herself to cook dishes from around the world, we also encountered all kinds of new tastes and techniques whilst travelling overseas during the holidays. My dad enjoyed eating out so we went to restaurants from a young age, most often a simple steak house chain and a fantastic local Chinese (which I still miss since it closed a few years ago).

Of course, Indian food featured regularly too. Mum most commonly cooked dishes from Northern India where she and my dad grew up. She had learned some as she grew up but taught herself many more, gleaning recipes from family members still in India and local Indian friends too.

Just around the corner from us lived my "Auntie" Krishna who, to my sister and I, isolated from our blood family in India, was much more than 'just' a family friend. Her mother, who we called "Nani" (Grandmother) Maya, would visit from India for months at a time, like my own grandmothers did. Nani Maya was from Kolkata and taught mum many dishes from her regional repertoire.

Food was something that drew our families (plus a few other local friends) together - many happy moments were spent cooking and eating together in one or other nearby houses.

One day Auntie Krishna arranged for us to go to London to visit a high end Indian restaurant that had opened a couple of years earlier. A cousin or uncle of hers was a regular visitor there and wanted to take us all to visit. That restaurant was The Bombay Brasserie.

More than 25 years later, I still remember the high glass ceilings of the conservatory, the greenery around the room, the elegant days-of-the-Raj interior and the attentive service. Back then, a restaurant serving authentic dishes from different regions in India was a huge contrast to the more common flock wallpapered curry house.

Of course, The Bombay Brasserie was of it's time. It opened the same year that Gandhi was released. Our visit, two years later, coincided with both The Jewel in the Crown and Passage to India (the film). India was all the rage!

All I recall about the food is that, whilst everyone agreed it was tasty good, it was really, really, really hot! The visit was a big treat – we went out to restaurants regularly but Luton certainly had nothing to compare to this kind of establishment – hence it sticking in my memory.

Fast forward to 2010 and I received an invitation to visit Bombay Brasserie to review.

Of course, I couldn't resist going back after two and a half decades. Would I recognise the place? Would the food and service be as good as my teenage memories? How had Bombay Brasserie evolved in the face of increasing awareness and interest in authentic regional Indian cuisine and stiffer competition from the new kids on the block?

I didn't recognise the main dining area but once we walked into the rounded conservatory area, the déjà vu hit me. The furniture is lighter and more modern and there's less greenery than I remember, but the sloped wooden and glass ceiling is unchanged.

The conservatory part of the restaurant is most familiar, though lighter and more modern

The main dining area is more traditional with a huge chandelier hanging below the high, elegantly corniced ceiling and a glorious round glass window at one end (which has lights installed to give different colours). Although it's grand, it's not as unusual as the conservatory and somehow has a bit of a posh but dated hotel feel about it.

Both are comfortable places to sit, but I'd choose the conservatory, especially for a day time visit.

That said, I do wish they hadn't reduced the flora so much; I rather liked that slightly jungle feel about it, though perhaps I'm misremembering!

The main dining room, Chef Hegde

Before lunch, we'd arranged to meet and talk to Executive Chef, Prahlad Hegde who joined The Bombay Brasserie as a sous chef in 1991 and now heads up the restaurant team. He works in partnership with Hemant Oberoi who is the Executive Chef for the entire Taj Group, and visits this London outpost once or twice a year to work on menu development with Hedge. I was disappointed to miss an opportunity to meet Chef Oberoi during his recent visit, but very happy to chat to Chef Hegde who is responsible for the restaurant on a daily basis.

This mural was originally in the main dining room but was moved into the conservatory during last year's refurbishment

We made a short video of part of our chat with Chef Prahlad Hegde:

Before lunch we ordered a drink to enjoy in the entrance bar area.

Drinks and snacks in the bar area

I ordered a Blackberry cocktail from a section of the bar drinks menu called "Smashes", which I really enjoyed. Pete's Cappuccino Martini, on the other hand, was very poor, lacking almost completely in flavour and with virtually no alcohol kick whatsoever. It tasted mostly of cream.

With the cocktails were served some perfectly spiced and salted roasted almonds and some very moreish spicy orange crisps.

Time for lunch!

First out was a plate of crudités and fried snacks with a lightly spiced tomato dip.

Having looked at the menu and spoken to Chef Hegde, we mentioned a couple of dishes we particularly wanted to try and left the rest of the selection to him. For starters, he sent out a mixed plate so we could try a number of the most popular starters.

Selection of starters

Chicken tikka 'doodha' was firm but tender with a surprising smokiness and wonderful blend of spices. It wasn't as soft as the Delhi Grill chicken tikka but soft enough, and the flavour really was wonderful.

The Curry leaf scallops on peppered crab were also a hit. Even with Pete, who would not normally eat scallops or crab let alone find anything positive to say about them. The scallop was subtly spiced and perfectly cooked. The peppered crab was incredible, somehow delivering some fairly robust spicing without overwhelming the sweet flavour of the crab, which came through very clearly.

Ganderi seekh (lamb kebabs on sugarcane sticks) were served in little shot glasses of green coriander and mint chutney. They were soft and moist, though the wet chutney made the crumbed exterior a bit soggy. Although I liked the release of sweet juice as I crunched down on the sugarcane, the flavours in the kebab didn't wow me.

But that's OK because the palak pakodi chaat blew me away. Thin leaves of spinach (palak) were deep fried in a very light gram flour batter to make unusually light pakora (as I know them in Hindi) , or pakodi (as they are called by Telegu speakers). These battered spinach leaves provided the crunchy element of the chaat (more commonly provided by fried bread or pastry) against the natural yoghurt, coriander, tamarind chutney, raw red onions and tomatoes and chaat masala (spices). It was a heavenly dish and a lunch of nothing more than an immense bowl of this palak pakodi chaat would make me a very happy Kavey indeed!

Selection of mains

I resisted begging for more palak pakodi chaat and we went onto the mains.

The Chilean seabass on spinach and mushroom was decent. Again, the fish was beautifully cooked and nicely spiced. The soft spinach beneath was a good match.

The Dum ki nalli was impressive. Delivered in one piece to the table, the slow cooked lamb shank in saffron curry was then slipped off the bone at the table to make for easier serving. Whilst I couldn't detect the distinct bitter muddiness of the saffron, I did think the spicing delicious and the lamb itself very tender. And how lovely to get a decent serving of the gravy, all the better to dip the lovely lightly scorched naan bread and flaky-layered laccha paratha into!

Aloo katliyan didn't appeal at all. The spiced potato slices were undercooked hard and the flavours too bitter for our tastes.

We also had a mint and cucumber raita; a decent side, but the natural yoghurt is not as flavoursome as the home-made stuff they have at Quilon.

Sugarcane juice

I loved the fresh sugarcane juice soft drink I ordered, though it was a touch heavy on the ginger for my tastes. The sweet earthy taste worked well against the spicy mains.

After our mains tiny dishes with a solid white tablet in them were brought to the table. I cannot describe them better than Marina O'Loughlin in her review of a year and a half ago:

What looks like a large indigestion tablet arrives, tumescing into a meringuey tube as the waiter baptises it with boiling water. I wonder how many people have attempted to eat this hot towel?

Still, they amused me greatly. It doesn't take much!

Dessert

Dessert was disappointing. The malai kulfi was actually good, though it didn't really match well with the crispy pastry case in which it was served. The ginger brioche and butter pudding was a let down. Lacking in flavour and collapsed sadly into it's ramekin, it wasn't a good ending.

So, what's the low down?

I quite like Terry Durack's comment: "Not only does [Bombay Brasserie] have a grand sense of space, it has an equally grand sense of time." There's certainly a sense of longevity and tradition, aided by the black and white photographs of Indian maharajah's and British colonials that adorn the walls in the bar area. A visit does have a sense of occasion, though atmosphere is somewhat let down by the lack of fellow diners on a weekday lunch time!

My biggest problem is the price. Starters range from £5 to £11.50, with most of them around the £9-£10 mark. Mains are between £18.50 and £30 each plus extra for the various side vegetables, breads, rices and raita. Desserts are £6.50.

Rowan Moore said "It made me feel more slumdog than millionaire" and he has a very good point.

With so many great alternatives for fantastic Indian food in London, those are hefty prices and one senses that one is paying a large part of that for the rarefied atmosphere and decor – A Saudi prince made a last minute dinner booking for a large party just the night before our visit and I can't imagine him taking his guests along to the more everyman Delhi Grill or Dishoom!

You can also see from my review that I absolutely loved the starters, enjoyed the mains well enough and didn't think much of the desserts, so it's a little hit and miss. And for these prices, it needs to be hit and hit!

That said, there are less expensive options. A weekday lunch tiffin is priced at £22 per person and includes small servings of a couple of starters, a selection of mains with rice and naan, dessert and tea or coffee. Served in a modern take on a tiffin box, portions are just right for a working day lunch.

However, my next visit shall be for the weekend lunch buffet. Also priced at £22 a head and available between 12 and 3 on Saturdays and Sundays, this is a great way to enjoy many of the restaurants classic dishes without a bill of royal proportions. Since Chef Hegde assures me the buffet includes the palak pakodi chaat, I'm there!

Kavey Eats dined as a guest of Bombay Brasserie.

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Home-Style Cooking at Delhi Grill

There is no greater compliment I can give about North Indian food than that it matches my mum's home cooking. So it's not an accolade I give lightly.

It is one I give to Delhi Grill having finally made my way to this new Chapel Market Indian restaurant in Angel Islington last month.

May it be the first visit of many. Many, many.

Based on a traditional Indian dhaba – a casual canteen or restaurant stop serving tasty, inexpensive local dishes to a really wide range of clientele, from truckers and rickshaw-wallahs to suits from nearby offices – Delhi Grill doesn't follow the usual British curry house propensity for long, long menus. Instead it offers a short, balanced range of traditionally cooked dishes, many cooked long and slow after overnight marinating.

In addition, during lunch times and and on Sundays (when the Chapel Market Farmers Market is on) you can buy freshly made wraps and lassis from the Delhi Grill market stall set up in the street outside the restaurant.

(The stall has been winning over customers since May, the restaurant opened mid-September).

Delhi Grill is a proper family business. Brothers Aman and Preet Grewal wanted to create a down-to-earth restaurant serving the kind of food Indians cook and eat at home. Recipe development is lead by Preet's wife, Satpal who has drawn heavily on family recipes from parents, aunts and cousins. The three together have spent many hours tweaking each recipe and continue to review dishes regularly.

Also vital to the team is Ashik, restaurant manager, who ensures that the stall and restaurant are running smoothly while Aman, Preet and Satpal look after the recipes and work behind the scenes. In the kitchen, chefs Ashraf and Shamshu make sure that the dishes sent out are exactly as they should be according to Satpi's final recipes.

The menu is short and sweet (though with plenty enough to tempt) and we're quickly ready to order.

Pete drinks a large Bangla (£3.75) from the range of Indian beers, most available in small and larger bottles. A strong, simple lager designed to compliment Indian food, it does the job.

I can't resist the lassi (£2). It's lovely – light, frothy and a proper natural yoghurt flavour. It's very much like what I whizz up at home and perfect with the food to come.

Delhi Grill; condiments

We start with the Delhi Grill (£6.50). Four chicken tikka pieces, two lamb chops and two sheekh kebabs piled over sizzling onions are served alongside three condiments: a coriander chutney, beetroot and garlic and one other.

The chicken tikka is the first surprise. Typically, this is a dish I feel so-so about. It's chicken. It's been marinated. It's been grilled. It has no sauce and is often a bit dry. But this is quite a revelation, mostly because of how very juicy it is. Moist spicy chicken goodness; definitely one we both love.

The sheekh kebabs impress too because they taste just like my mum's. And I love my mum's home made kebabs! Gently spiced, a traditional texture (though I also have a soft spot for the very finely minced Dishoom version) and as moist as the chicken tikka, these are really rather good and disappear far too quickly. I could eat a lot of these.

The lamb chops are good but don't wow me as much as the other two grill dishes. They have been slow cooked, cooled and then marinated before being grilled so there's no juicy pink inside, though they are reasonably tender. But the main issue for me is my addiction to chargrilled lamb chop fat and these chops don't give me any! Perfectly nice but their plate mates win the day.

Oh and I mustn't fail to mention the onions. I think of these as mere garnish but the onions on the platter are so tasty we eat every last piece.

rogan gosht; cholay; matter paneer

For our mains we choose rogan gosht (£6.95), cholay (£3.95) and matter paneer (from the specials board, £5.95) plus a naan (£1.50) and a raita (£1.50) and a couple of rotis (£1 each).

The rogan gosht (lamb curry) consists of tender, juicy pieces of lamb (no cheap, gristly cuts in sight) in a rich, deftly spiced tomato sauce. The traditional recipe and slow cooking really shine through. I really like this.

The cholay (chickpea curry) is another dish that is just like mum's. Unlike many Indian restaurants, the spicing is completely different from the lamb curry. The chick peas are cooked as I like them; the balance between soft and firm is just right. For me this and a pile of freshly cooked rotis is the next best thing to going home to mum.

Yet again, the matter paneer (cheesy peas, as I've heard it called) has it's own blend of spices and is distinct from the other two dishes. This time the recipe is quite different from mum's, though it's clearly still a Northern Indian family recipe. I love the firm cubes of fried paneer and slippery peas. This one is Pete's favourite.

roti being made; roti

One thing I really appreciate is the freshly cooked rotis. During our meal we watch roti-wallah, Gautam, roll and cook them for us and other tables. When the restaurant is packed, I'm told that the main kitchen also gets roti-making to meet demand. For me, they could do with a little more browning but taste, texture and thickness is spot on.

naan

The naan isn't bad either though my personal taste is for it to be a touch thicker. It's decent but I'm won over by the rotis, delivered piping hot as they're made.

raita

Raita is a simple dish – natural yoghurt, cucumber and a light sprinkling of spices. It goes well with the rest of our order and balances the chilli heat of the dishes.

After all that, we are far too full for pudding; in fact we take away leftovers for the next day as we can't even finish what we've ordered!

Our bill is just under £30 before service (though the rotis were being offered to guests to try during our visit so the four we had would normally add another £4 to the bill). I think this is a great deal in London and just wish Delhi Grill were my local Indian restaurant!

After our meal we take the opportunity to chat to owner Aman. You can watch my impromptu interview here. I didn't plan to do an interview, so I didn't prepare any questions - these are a little spur-of-the-moment. Not too incoherent, I hope!

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Quilon: A Taste Of The Malabar Coast

A little skeptical about Michelin's standards after our recent meal at Holbeck Ghyll I was nonetheless curious to visit Quilon, an Indian restaurant in the heart of Westminster that I'd heard very little about.

Familiar with a wide range of Northern Indian dishes (well, I would be, wouldn't I? This is my mum's website) I know very little about the cuisine of the South-western states of the Malabar Coast, from which chef Sriram Aylur takes inspiration.

Unlike many Michelin starred chefs, Aylur doesn't seem to be interested in celebrity, so I do some googling to find out more. I learn that he gave up studying law to follow his real passion and his father's footsteps. He started cooking in his father's restaurant, working his way up to head chef at the Taj Gateway Hotel in Bangalore and launching the much-lauded Karavali restaurant. There he earned himself a reputation as one of the very top chefs in India. Just over 10 years ago, he was invited by the owner of the famous Bombay Brasserie, Mr RK Krishna Kumar, to move to London and open Quilon.

He has described his food as "authentic cooking but with a slight twist for the UK market".

It's time to find out more!

Lunch offers the promise of a taste of Goa, Karnataka and Kerala for just £23.00 for three courses plus tea or coffee. Better still, you can select from a whopping great choice of 6 starters, 7 seafood/meat main dishes or 7 vegetarian ones or 2 thalis, 10 sides and 5 desserts!

miniatures from the Elephant Parade 2010, raising funds to save the Asian elephant from extinction in the wild

Struggling to choose from the many temptations, the restaurant manager suggests, as we've been invited to review the restaurant, that we might prefer to taste a selection of the chef's dishes in small portions. This seems a fantastic opportunity, so we mention a couple of dishes that have particularly caught our eye and leave the rest to chef.

Now the food is taken care of, what about the drinks?

I cannot resist the temptation of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice (£7), something my grandmother used to squeeze for her children when they were poorly, and which my mum has sometimes made for me – it's a fiddly job; you can't take the easy route of blending or the bitter seeds will affect the taste. I've never found a shop-bought pomegranate juice that tastes remotely right but this is it – freshly squeezed from the fruit.

Later I order a sweet lassi (£4) and am blown away even more. So many places seem to miss the essence of a lassi – the yoghurt itself. But chef Sriram Aylur has my undying respect for his lassi alone – it has the unmistakable rich tang of home-made yoghurt. It's thick and creamy with just the right balance between sweet and tart. I'd like it to be served a little cooler, but otherwise, it's absolutely fantastic and I can't stop myself grinning and exclaiming about as I drink it!

Pete is very pleased to choose from Quilon's special beer list. Sadly more than a little sticky from the previous guests' fingers, the list is nonetheless quite an intriguing one, with some familiar names and a few he's not encountered before.

He starts with a Kasteel Cru Rosé and moves on to a Pietra (both £4.50). We'll be posting separate reviews of these beers soon but, in summary, the former has a subtle lager taste with champagne style tiny bubbles and a pink hue whereas the latter has a distinct flavour from the chestnuts it's made with.

Tiny popadums are served to all diners, with coconut and tomato dips. We also supplement these with the table condiments; from left to right they are ginger and tamarind, red chilli and lime and garlic, mustard seeds and oil.

As we sit munching the little crisp breads, we take in our surroundings. I have to say, they're a little disappointing. Although I rather like the somewhat kitsch murals of gentle Malabar backwater scenes – luscious rubber plants, monkeys grooming beneath the trees, boats sailing along the water. But neither they nor the wall-mounted bromeliads manage to negate the hotel restaurant feel of the space.

Still, it's all about the food and it's not long before we're presented with a taster of three starters to catch our attention. From left to right are dakshini pepper chicken, seafood broth and crab cakes.

Although the dakshini pepper chicken (from the lunch menu or £9 à la carte) is described as 'green pepper corn, yoghurt and chilli flavoured' the dominant flavour for me is aromatic cardamom. The chicken is extremely moist and soft and the flavours are delightful. It's served on some gentle curry sauce, which adds a nice kick.

The seafood broth (from the lunch menu or £9 à la carte) is my least favourite, though Pete's more of a fan. In the bowl are plump prawns, a slice of scallop, some soft squid and a mussel. Our waiter pours the broth over them at the table. Whilst Pete likes the light spicing in the broth I find it too bland and slightly muddy tasting.

The crab cakes (£10 from the à la carte menu) are gorgeous. The menu describes them as 'crab claw meat tossed with curry leaves, ginger and green chillies'. Certainly, the quality and sweetness of the crab meat, and it's distinctive texture, come through clearly. So much crab meat is used that the cakes only just hold together! The sweetness is balanced by a mustard sauce beneath that brings a welcome sharpness.

After the starters, all diners are served an small glass of rasam – a warm tomato, lentil, coriander and tamarind soup that tastes a little like a hot, spicy bloody mary. It's fresh and fiery but not too heavy – this is the kind of kick I'd have enjoyed in place of the seafood broth.

We're slightly overwhelmed by the number of dishes that come out next, though we remind ourselves that the idea is to try – we don't have to finish them all!

Guinea fowl masala (from the lunch menu or £17 à la carte) comes covered in what is described as a coriander, green chilli and tomato 'rug'. I can't detect any tomato but the paste reminds me of my mum's green chutney, which I adore. The guinea fowl is surprisingly soft – it's so often been tough when I've ordered it elsewhere. If you love coriander as much as I do, this is a dish you'll enjoy, but it may be a little OTT on the herb for some.

The pistachio lamb (from the lunch menu or £17 à la carte) looks more impressive than it tastes. The green sauce is vibrant but lacks punch and I simply can't detect the flavour of pistachio at all, despite the colour. There is a lot of sauce to meat but the three pieces of meat are extremely tender. This is a very mild dish.

Two type prawns are available on the lunch menu for a £6.50 supplement, or à la carte for £10/£20 for a small or regular portion. One bread-crumbed and deep fried, the other plain, the giant prawns are served on a 'Manglorean masala'. Whilst the prawns taste great, I find them altogether too chewy – I prefer prawns to be softer and juicier. The tomatoey masala sauce beneath them is good though, especially with the paratha.

The cottage cheese and coloured peppers with lotus (from the lunch menu or £8 à la carte) is not like anything we've had before. The paneer is cut into small slivers and is firm like halloumi. I like that, though Pete expresses a preference for a softer, crumblier paneer texture. The small deep-fried kofte or balls of vegetable – presumably lotus – are fantastic. Pete rates them one of his favourite elements of the whole meal. Both cheese and kofte are lifted by the sweet crunch of peppers that have not been cooked to a mush and soft browned onions. The spicing is excellent.

The baked black cod might just be the most fantastic thing that's passed through my lips this year! The cod is as soft as silk and juicy, so juicy! And the charred edges of spice and molasses are smoky heaven. Available à la carte for £12/£24 for a small or regular portion, it's one of the few things we try that's not included in the set lunch menu. It is, we're told after enthusing about it, one of chef Sriram Aylur's signature dishes. It's a revelation; I've never had anything like it and have thought of it every single day since our visit!

Of course, black cod, you may be muttering to yourself, is a sub-Antarctic species and hardly forms a part of traditional Indian cuisine. Is this fusion? Chef Sriram Aylur's describes it rather as the "progress of food". Keen to remain grounded in his Indian roots, nonetheless he is happy to apply his own take on a traditional recipe, a take that makes use of ingredients available here in the UK.

From the long list of accompaniments we choose a Malabar paratha and lemon rice (both £3 à la carte). The paratha is flaky, soft and suitably ghee-laden – Pete says it reminds him of a flat, savoury croissant! The sour lemon rice (basmati with lime juice, curry leaves, split bengal gram and ghee) is not to either of our tastes.

I'm really not sure why we order desserts, other than the fact that we're greedy and we're curious. Curious, greedy bastards! And they're part of that great value set lunch menu too.

Pete selects the manuka honey cakes served with pistachio ice cream and white chocolate mousse (£8). The cakes are sodden with sharp, tangy manuka honey. They are good. The white chocolate mousse, served in a dark chocolate cup, is declared rich and creamy. The pistachio tuile I eat, as Pete's not a fan of nutty textures. It's delightfully crisp and crunchy and the very essence of pistachio. Disappointingly, the pistachio ice-cream, like the sauce for the lamb, doesn't taste of pistachio at all.

I go for hot rice kheer (£8), described as 'creamy hot rice pudding served with rose ice cream'. I love rice pudding and am not fussy about style, having grown up enjoying both the stodgy rice puddings of school dinners and my mum's lighter Indian kheers. But I really don't like this version at all. The texture is gritty, like it's full of broken rice and sand. The taste is bland. It's not sweet enough, though as the waiter was about to drop my ball of rose ice cream into the kheer before I stopped him, I guess that would have added sweetness. The sharp, acidic pieces of fruit beneath and on top of the rice pudding clash with the cream, for me.

The rose ice cream, on the other hand, is delightful, and I'm pleased I saved it from the sandy bowl of rice sludge. It's a very refreshing scoop of turkish delight flavoured cream.

Coffee (£4 or included in the lunch menu) comes prettily presented with sugar and a chocolate.

When I ask for mint tea (£4 or included in the lunch menu), made with real mint leaves please, I'm impressed to be immediately asked whether I'd prefer an infusion of the leaves or for them to mixed with black tea. I go for the former and am also rewarded with a little chocolate alongside.

Finally, our meal is over and we are replete. We've enjoyed a fantastic introduction to South-western Indian cuisine and have been very impressed indeed by much of what we've tried.

So much so that I'm determined to take my mum to visit soon – I know she'll enjoy it.

Pete, through a modern art glass sculpture near St James Park tube station

Of course, our bill for such a feast would have been higher for the vast number of dishes we tried than if we'd stuck to the set lunch deal. But we were very impressed with the choices on the £23 menu and would happily choose from this on a future visit.

Many thanks to Quilon and SLO London for arranging our visit.

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