It also turned out to be a good complement to my spiced monkfish kebabs. These arrived skewered and wrapped in banana leaves, which meant they were exceptionally moist. But they were flavoured too strongly with cardamom, which overwhelmed even the sturdy monkfish meat.
Accompaniments were good. Lemon rice with mustard seed and curry leaves was fluffy and fragrant and a peshawari nan was featherlight and f lavoured subtley with saffron, coconut and almonds. The blueberry raita, though, was a nod too far to fashion and rather like eating breakfast.
Overall, the food was of a high standard, and prepared and served with great care. Our choice of dishes meant some odd combinations, but I'd put that down to greed rather than the kitchen. Service was good - relaxed, informal and intelligent. We even overheard a very modern Indian conversation - about how to let your mother down gently regarding her plans for your arranged marriage.
The verdict? We weren't entirely sure if Gordon Brown would be comfortable here, but were fairly certain John Prescott would not.