Fine Dining at Tamarind

On occasional trips back to my parent’s home in Cambridgeshire, the topic of living in London will often come up in conversation with visiting neighbours and relatives. They gush and exclaim, ‘Oh, it must be so exciting living there. So much going on and so much to do.’ I want to stop them and inform that, for the most part, living in London is nasty and vile. You’re ripped off at every turn, it’s noisy, there’s too many people. And this is all before you get out of your own house.

But in the face of their gleaming admiration, I take the decorous route and simper, saying, ‘Yes it’s great. There’s even a new Gap store opening where the butchers used to be.’

I’m often reminded of that hazed look whenever I go to a restaurant in Mayfair. The reason is that as I am making my way down on the Tube or on the bike, I find it spreading all over my own face. Perhaps it’s snobbery, naivety or just misplaced optimism but the thought of eating at the most most expensive place on the Monopoly board brings me out in an unrestrained display of glee.

This expression of contentment was on full show when I arrived at Tamarind, the first Indian restaurant to receive a Michelin star. A spiral staircase leads you down into a near circular room with splashes that have an opulent charm that doesn’t venture into the realms of garishness.

The starters of tender lamb cutlets with ginger, turmeric and peppercorns, as well as aloo tikki (a spinach and garlic-filled potato cake) were exquisite in their delicacy and matching of the different flavours. The spiced chickpeas on whole-wheat crisps were given a smooth accompaniment with sweetened yoghurt topped with blueberries and tamarind chutney.

The main course didn’t quite keep the standard going but there was still much to admire in the tiger prawns and the monkfish. Accompanying these two were a range of side dishes that showed a great deal of variety. The smoked aubergine pulp with garlic, cumin and fresh coriander leaves provided a decent compliment to the tiger prawns as did the baby potatoes and shiitake mushrooms with pureed spinach.

There was little that could be done to improve the monkfish which did not have the snap and richness that might have been hoped for. I thought the accompanying boneless lamb masala finished with ground spices, ginger julienne and coriander would have been better developed as a main dish.

The desserts were particularly impressive with a mixture of carrot fudge, pistachio kulfi and mango and basil sorbet. The contrast of consistency and flavours made for a splendid end to the meal. As I left, that silly grin returned, one of satisfaction and contentment and thinking that London is actually sometimes quite a great place to live.

Tamarind
20 Queen Street
Mayfair
W1J 5PR