The menu was mostly North Indian, and I chose the Tandoori Platter — fish, chicken kofta and mutton (aka "goat") — served on a sizzling plate with a spicy salad, mint yoghurt and naan bread.
I've had most of these dishes before in Australia, so I'm familiar with the flavours and spices. But here they were, somehow tastier, more alive in the mouth, more voluminous. It was actually like someone had turned the flavour dial on these spices and aromas, all the way up to 11.
I couldn't finish the whole platter by myself. I had to leave a couple of pieces of the fish, free to swim again another day. And all of this for the equivalent of about AU$10.
A platter like this at any decent Indian Restaurant in Australia would be three times the price. Admittedly, it was served with all the hospitality of an ill-fitting nappy, but I could not fault the food, which was the purpose of my trade.
I don't think for a moment that this little non-descript diner and sweet shop was some hidden gem that I stumbled across — the best kept secret since the Queen of England's lingerie supplier. I think it was simply an example of good Indian cooking, which no doubt abounds in this city.
The streets of "Little India"
As a plus, they also sold handmade sweets and confectionery at the front of the store. I picked up a bag of mixed lollies on my way out — something I haven't done since I was about 7. Thanks Little India!
D.
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