I slated Dishoom. One of my friends said I was brave, the other friend suggested I needed to rebuild my relationship with the Indian community. Nonsense I said, the Indian community eat at places that remind them of real India, not appropriate its culture through Cockney rhyming slang and five quid naan breads. Still, a desi pub was never the intended plan the day after I posted the blog piece, it just happened to be a happy set of events that involved a mate having to get his macros in for the day shortly after a zoom call about some potential work in the sector. Apparently desi pub foods contain macros, whatever macros are.
We chose Soho Tavern because someone I trust said that the chicken karai pot is better than anything on the menu at Dishoom. They may or may not be the person who said I needed to repair my relationship with the Indian community. And let’s not mess with gender, we all know these are the comments of a man, a man who drinks beer and watches sport in desi pubs and eats his mixed grills for cheap thrills. But he is a man of taste on these matters; a man in the know. Despite my bravado and exceptionally high IQ score (confirmed last week that I still got it, baybay), I don’t actually know everything.
It’s heaving at 2pm in the afternoon. Groups of lads being loud, endless pints of lager, front of house hoisting big mixy’s over shoulders to tables. Sport on the TV, chilli sauce on the table. A menu that tells us to order chilli chips, which we do. It seems odd to start a blog post with chilli chips yet here I am, telling you that the menu is right; wide chips lightly battered so that the blunt red spicing holds form without turning it to wet stodge. And the mixed grill is as good as you’ll find. Fat chunks of tikka chicken, and skewers of sheekh kebab perfumed with fresh garam masala. Flat chicken wings kissed with spice and flame, easily teased off the bone. It’s ten quid for a small which is never small.
I do as I’m told and order the chicken karai. At heart it’s a home-style curry; chicken slowly simmered in a gravy of ginger, garlic, a good whack of chilli, and a squeeze of lemon. But really it is so much more than that. This is migrant food at its finest, served in a style of pub that came about to keep migrant communities safe. The bill is £23. There is a lot of conversation about which desi pub is the best, but for me, Soho Tavern right now is my favourite.
9/10
