Tamarind, Mayfair

Mr Oil and Mr Vinegar, feeling exceptionally lazy, are willing to stray only yards from Curzon Street, into Queen Street and the exotic delights of Tamarind, an award-winning Moghul restaurant.

MrV: That was the first time in some years I’d been back there. I wonder why?
MrO: I suspect it was shame.
MrV: Rubbish. What the devil do I have to be ashamed of?
MrO: Last time we came you had been reading that Roger Scruton book where he says that children should be beaten and given no presents. You became drunk and started shouting that we should all beat and molest our children. Some people were outraged, I think.
MrV: I don’t see why. Children aren’t even allowed in there in the evening.
MrO: It was lunchtime.
MrV: I wrote a note apologising, didn’t I?
MrO: Yes, you did. But I was nonetheless a little anxious when we arrived. If they recognised you then I daresay the Tamarind staff were nervous, too.
MrV: Well, it’s not going to stop me saying what I think.
MrO: Nor should it.
MrV: Although I like Tamarind.
MrO: So do I.
MrV: But, unusually for an Asian restaurant, I just didn’t fancy any of those starters. Usually I only want the starters and don’t care too much for the rest.
MrO: Peculiar, isn’t it?
MrV: I think it’s because there’s so very little that leaps out and grabs you in this appetisers list. Like this one: “Channa Chaat - Spiced chickpeas and whole wheat crisps with mint chutney, sweetened yoghurt topped with blueberries and tamarind chutney”. It just sounds like a load of stuff with nothing I can focus on.
MrO: All right, I think you’ve made your point now.
MrV: No, usually in Asian restaurants you get gibberish headings for dishes but they are explained underneath in layman’s terms that make one salivate.
MrO: Describing the hundreds of languages of Asia as ‘gibberish’ might conceivably cause offence.
MrV: You know what I mean. Gibberish to me.
MrO: Everything apart from your own speech is gibberish to you. Anyway, I don’t think we’ll judge the restaurant on how well – or badly – its menu is written. And it gave us an opportunity...
MrV: Indeed! It is rare that I have the excuse to have a main course as a starter. It thrills me how much my wife and doctor would disapprove.
MrO: I can’t decide which I preferred – the tiger prawns or the lamb cutlets.
MrV: It was the prawns for me. That ginger and whatnot marinade – delicious.
MrO: It was all quite filling.
MrV: I know, I know. That is the drawback of having main courses for starters – not enough room for the main course.
MrO: We managed okay, though, sharing a main course. The lamb chetinaad was very good. And the okra and chickpeas side dish was remarkably pleasant.
MrV: I’d been a bit worried about that one. Okra is not my favourite food. I tend to side with Gordon Ramsay, who says it’s foul, slimy stuff that he can’t make pleasant no matter how hard he tries.
MrO: Perhaps he should try Tamarind’s.
MrV: I also liked that roti bread a lot. And I loved that white Chateauneuf du Pape – you don’t see it in London restaurant wine lists often enough -- and my tea and ginger ice cream and lime and orange blossom sorbet were lovely.
MrO: The mango and basil was also very good...
MrV: I couldn’t taste the basil, but it was decent mango sorbet. It was all very good but, somehow, slightly lacking in drama.
MrO: It was lunchtime. In the evenings it’s much busier.
MrV: I know, I just expected something else...I don’t know what...because it’s a Moghul restaurant. A Genghis Khan special, or something.
MrO: Moghul food is nothing to do with Genghis Khan. The Moghal empire was hundreds of years after Genghis dominated the region. You are a dreadful ignoramus.
MrV: But I know what I like.

Mr Oil and Mr Vinegar ate three main courses and two puddings, with two glasses of champagne, a bottle of wine, one digestif, one glass of pudding wine and two cups of coffee, at a total cost of about £160.

Tamarind
20-22 Queen Street
London W1J 5PR
+44 (0) 207 629 3561
reservations@tamarindrestaurant.com
www.tamarindrestaurant.com