Potli, W6 - review

When two restaurants claiming to specialise in Indian street food open within days of each other it could be a coincidence, a trend, bandwagon-jumping or all three.

But the two reviewed here are by no means the first to embrace the potential. That title should probably go to Diwana Bhel Poori House in Drummond Street, which opened in 1975. The Masala Zone chain has since done sterling work in spreading the knowledge. Other interesting recent venues include Mooli's in Frith Street, Dishoom in St Martin's Courtyard and Delhi Grill in Chapel Market.

In India street food is a way of eating that many visitors shy away from - although anything emerging from boiling oil is, I reckon, safe enough - so perhaps London, where the bugs are ones with which we are on familiar terms, is the best place to start.

Potli replaces Tandoori Nights on King Street, west London's Curry Lane. It is encouraging that one of the two new owners is the chef. After we had finished supper he emerged from the kitchen wearing one of those tall white pleated chef's hats you seldom see nowadays outside of cartoons.

On Potli's menu the street and market food element is underscored by descriptions of various well-known centres in India such as Chandni Chowk in Old Delhi, Chowringhee Lane in Calcutta and Charminar Market in Hyderabad, but the concept seems somewhat forced as a fashionable theme onto a fairly long and conventional list. It could be that the owners simply want to please all of the people all of the time. Welcome and service exemplify a dedication to the sort of hospitality - where the guest is god - that you find in Indian homes.

Waiting staff wearing sludge-coloured tops a bit like the upper half of a shalwar kameez - something similar at Egg would cost a fortune - tirelessly wipe tables, sweep the floor, top up glasses and generally look out for customers' needs. The first page of the menu is taken up with pre-appetisers and starter-size portions, some of which are inspired by street food but others bearing prices more in keeping with sit-down inside comfort.

Aloo papri chaat delivered faithfully that mouthful of crisp/soft, sour/sweet, warm/cold that once tried is hard to resist ordering wherever you find it. Prawn jhal diye were Indian Ocean prawns wrapped in banana leaves and charred on the griddle. Just a bit more griddling would have usefully fixed the marinade. Chicken 65, pieces of the bird cooked in batter spiced with crushed black peppers and fried curry leaves, is not to be missed.

A Hyderabad lamb biriyani, although not seemingly cooked by the dum method, was good, as were tarka dal, saag paneer and pindi channa, all rich with butter or ghee. Potli - spice bags akin in cooking function to muslin-wrapped bouquet garni - are part of the jolly homespun décor. The non-alcoholic cocktail list titled Unspiked Fun took me back to India faster than a jet plane.

ROTI CHAI
★★★✩✩
3 Portman Mews South, W1 (020 7408 0101). Open Mon-Sat from noon until late. A meal for two with wine, about £66 including 12.5 per cent service.

"DROP in for a cuppa chai and a chaat with friends," says the website - and not very much else. Like the restaurant, it would seem to be a work in progress. Rohit Chugh, formerly MD of Cinnamon Club, is the owner of this laid-back, stripped-down, raucous-when-busy street kitchen near enough to Oxford Street to shine as an independent good deed in a naughty chain world.

One side of A4 paper displays both menu and drinks list. Three of us were able to almost, but not quite, exhaust the food options. This is what we found.

For papri chaat - chaat by the way means snack - see its review above. Chicken lollipops, wings with their sleeves pushed up, breaded, spiced and fried, were pleasing to the inner child. If you order these, don't bother with Parsi chicken farcha, whose impact is much the same.