We went to New Tayyabs this evening and it was really excellent. I recall it being an OK place, but not nearly as good as its cheerleaders suggested to be, but I think that they were perhaps right and that I was wrong. Just like with Bob Dylan, who I guess I always liked, but I would never have thought that I'd spend three weeks listening to Best of Bob Vol. 2 obsessively. Or reading novels, a subject on which I am willing to bore anyone at the moment - why on earth did I spend years and years ignoring them in favour of bloody newspapers? I guess that it helps your pub quizzing, but when you're rejected by the historians' University Challenge: The Professionals team, you know that it's time to start reading books.
The highlights of Tayyabs are very high indeed because the paneer tikka and karahi tarka daal were up there with the best of them: you knew that the former would be good from its admirable searing and it had that luscious chewiness that you expect from the best of its kind, while it was a great sign that the daal was ochre in colour and it looked reasonably dry: two key signs in my book, for if a daal looks too yellow or too liquid-y you know that you're in trouble. This one was deeply smoky and my fave of the main dishes, of which the others were an indifferent saag aloo and a decent vegetable karahi. The naan was top notch in that it had probably emerged from the oven 30 seconds before arriving on the table, and the poppadoms were really delicious.
The service was, if one is being kind, prompt, and if one is being honest, rude. Waiters hover in the manner of a family member who is OCD about being early as they wait for the rest of their party who are going to make sure that everyone misses their train. They remove your dishes before everyone has finished eating and need to be managed in a pretty stern way, but that's OK because that's just the way it is there and I cannot remember spending a better £10, inc. service, on dinner in London in a long time. We'll be back.
No comments:
Post a Comment