Curry On Christmas
Pro Great flavours and impressively generous freebies for groups, at least.
Con Service has a mind all its own.
Pay
€€
Per Person Set menu €16 Gratis: popodums, extra starters, three chupito bottles.
Find
Website Clickatón
Access One little step
In Short
Hopes. VFM curry.
Reality. Impressively old school.
First Impressions. Language teacher lunch heaven - or hell, depending on how you look at it.
USP? Consistency of curryness.
The offer in three words. Spice, spice Baby.
Service! It takes work to manage the workers.
Friend friendly? Caters for tastes easily.
Rating for dating. If the potential lovers are curry lovers, you're on.
Change one thing? Stock control. The Cobra ran out. Metaphorically, obviously.
Revisitability. High.
Compare & Contrast
Spot the difference at Ave Maria 26.
Iberianised spicing at Surya.
In Pictures
On Google Images
What's the story?
Sometimes old school can work out. It's time travel time (again (again)) and we're off to 1988. The truth is, if you're after entirely unapologetic old school Indian eating, with nary a hint of modern mucking about, head here pronto.
The largest of three identical-looking (but not necessarily connected) Moharajs, this one serves a range of entirely predictable Indian dishes, but, pleasingly, the familiarity extends to the flavours and quality. There's not a lot of compromise here for sensitive palates, but there's the odd touch of local influence which is welcome.
Set menu is, in theory, pakoras and samosas, plus a curry and rice or naan of choice. Eating in a group of eight today, the impressive generosity of Ave Maria 18 is not to be underestimated. We scored some outstanding chicken pakoras and two plates of onion bhajis, as well as the included-for-all popodums and sauces.
The menu's exactly what you'd expect - hope for - from a classic curry house and they aren't messing about on the tastes either. There's no being polite about flavours. If you're on for spicy,
Rezala was my choice of the day. It came with some quality lamb - mature, rather than milkfed, as curry flavours really require - and was as creamy and spicy as you'd hope. Confusing a green chilli with a green bean was a memorable moment, as not for the spice-sensitive. A quick taste of the Vindaloo and Madras showed they're as hot as they should be, but also appreciably different in flavour. Someone's doing some half-decent spice work out in the kitchen. Excellent stuff.
Naans at all the Moaharajs have always been excellent and we had a suite of four today. Try all of them. We're always going to be biased towards Peshwari, but are developing a regard for garlic too. Excellently sweet and spicy by turn.
Desserts aren't going to win awards. Pistachio kulfi was like a solid sorbet, lots of wateryness and not a lot of cream. Not unpleasant, but not something to go out of your way to try. A carroty pudding was as orange as a Liverpool spray tan booth operator after a Christmas party block booking.
Service is simultaneously amiable and capricious. Extra dishes arrive with abandon. Drifts of beer bottles pile up till you have to beg for them to be removed. Sauce carousels appear and disappear at random. Chupito bottles come, go and are readily refilled. There's a kind of officious kindness to it all. Like the staff need to feed people, but wish everyone would stop hassling them to provide more of the excellent food.
Come. Eat. Experience, if you time it, the most anglosaxon-celtic atmosphere - we got semi-forgotten renditions of Christmas carols and some spectacular Norn Iron accents - outside the British Ladies' Christmas Bazaar. There's not a lot of polish, but you'll probably have a lot of fun, partly as a result.
Sometimes simple is best.
Pro Great flavours and impressively generous freebies for groups, at least.
Con Service has a mind all its own.
Pay
€€
Per Person Set menu €16 Gratis: popodums, extra starters, three chupito bottles.
Find
Website Clickatón
Access One little step
In Short
Hopes. VFM curry.
Reality. Impressively old school.
First Impressions. Language teacher lunch heaven - or hell, depending on how you look at it.
USP? Consistency of curryness.
The offer in three words. Spice, spice Baby.
Service! It takes work to manage the workers.
Friend friendly? Caters for tastes easily.
Rating for dating. If the potential lovers are curry lovers, you're on.
Change one thing? Stock control. The Cobra ran out. Metaphorically, obviously.
Revisitability. High.
Compare & Contrast
Spot the difference at Ave Maria 26.
Iberianised spicing at Surya.
In Pictures
On Google Images
What's the story?
Sometimes old school can work out. It's time travel time (again (again)) and we're off to 1988. The truth is, if you're after entirely unapologetic old school Indian eating, with nary a hint of modern mucking about, head here pronto.
The largest of three identical-looking (but not necessarily connected) Moharajs, this one serves a range of entirely predictable Indian dishes, but, pleasingly, the familiarity extends to the flavours and quality. There's not a lot of compromise here for sensitive palates, but there's the odd touch of local influence which is welcome.
Set menu is, in theory, pakoras and samosas, plus a curry and rice or naan of choice. Eating in a group of eight today, the impressive generosity of Ave Maria 18 is not to be underestimated. We scored some outstanding chicken pakoras and two plates of onion bhajis, as well as the included-for-all popodums and sauces.
The menu's exactly what you'd expect - hope for - from a classic curry house and they aren't messing about on the tastes either. There's no being polite about flavours. If you're on for spicy,
Rezala was my choice of the day. It came with some quality lamb - mature, rather than milkfed, as curry flavours really require - and was as creamy and spicy as you'd hope. Confusing a green chilli with a green bean was a memorable moment, as not for the spice-sensitive. A quick taste of the Vindaloo and Madras showed they're as hot as they should be, but also appreciably different in flavour. Someone's doing some half-decent spice work out in the kitchen. Excellent stuff.
Naans at all the Moaharajs have always been excellent and we had a suite of four today. Try all of them. We're always going to be biased towards Peshwari, but are developing a regard for garlic too. Excellently sweet and spicy by turn.
Desserts aren't going to win awards. Pistachio kulfi was like a solid sorbet, lots of wateryness and not a lot of cream. Not unpleasant, but not something to go out of your way to try. A carroty pudding was as orange as a Liverpool spray tan booth operator after a Christmas party block booking.
Service is simultaneously amiable and capricious. Extra dishes arrive with abandon. Drifts of beer bottles pile up till you have to beg for them to be removed. Sauce carousels appear and disappear at random. Chupito bottles come, go and are readily refilled. There's a kind of officious kindness to it all. Like the staff need to feed people, but wish everyone would stop hassling them to provide more of the excellent food.
Come. Eat. Experience, if you time it, the most anglosaxon-celtic atmosphere - we got semi-forgotten renditions of Christmas carols and some spectacular Norn Iron accents - outside the British Ladies' Christmas Bazaar. There's not a lot of polish, but you'll probably have a lot of fun, partly as a result.
Sometimes simple is best.
