NEWS

FOR too long in this town, the reputation of Indian food and all its subcontinental offspring, has been in the doldrums.

While no-one can doubt the quality of food on offer, nor the skill of those who create it and bring it to our table, behind this lay a certain lack of imagination and reluctance to really push the boat out.

Not any more.

At the newly-opened Achari on Crook Street, owner Sanu Miah and his staff will bend over backwards to make sure that your meal is as rewarding and as intimate or garrulous as you want it to be. The place made the news recently when it revealed it also has a braille menu, but that is indicative of the level of attention paid to service.

This is a small restaurant, but inside is deceptively spacious. With tables and chairs along the middle of the restaurant, the sides are made up of circular booths. They are big enough to party in for a group of you, or small enough to hide in when you need discretion over the dhansak.

Eschewing the more traditional, and sometimes oppressive style of interior styling favoured by curry houses, the colours here are natural tones - muted fawns and beige, with crisp white linen covers that let you know that care has been taken to make this place look and feel good.

Fairy light arrangements set into the ceiling complete the relaxing, contemporary effect. You feel confident. Here is a place that makes you feel good before they even get the pans out.

Packaging is all very well, of course, but what about the food? Absolutely superb.

I started with a Chicken Chat, stir-fried chicken in chat masala sauce with onions, coriander, herbs and spices, while my partner went with a selection of onion bhajis.

The key to the cooking here, which was displayed throughout the courses, is subtlety.

The spices in the chat sauce were refreshing and zesty, but they did not overpower, which is often a shortcoming of Indian starters. The texture was delightfully smooth, with tender chicken pieces completing an understated but attractive starter.

The bhajis were great too, but let's be honest, if they get those staples wrong they're in deep trouble.

As a main course, I had Southern Indian Garlic Chilli and mushroom rice, which sounded like the worst possible combination in a single dish for anyone who works in an office.

The dish was lamb prepared with garlic, green peppers and fresh green chillies garnished with fresh coriander, and this was where things became frankly surreal.

The lamb was beautifully tender, and the sauce, which started off as a spicy tang, quickly turned the dish into an overwhelming explosion of heat and flavour.

For a second, my eyes watered and I thought I had made a mistake, but the sensation subsided as quickly as it arose. It was an extraordinary feeling. Each mouthful was the same, with a blast of chilli that came and went like a firework up your nose.

The secret was in the fresh chillies. While many chefs use chilli powder for speed and power, the fresh chillies in this meal simply melted away, leaving no unpleasant afterburn or numb lips.