Wednesday 19th October 2011
Curry is the undisputed national dish of Britain. And as such everybody knows how to make one of some description. Having said that, it’s always preferable to get a take out from one of the thousands of Indian restaurant in the UK.
I’ve spoken before about the infamous Akash Tandorri Restaurant in the shopping precinct where my Mum lives. My wife & I get to go there perhaps once or twice a year but the staff there always remember us & make a big enough fuss of us for us to feel looked after.
This summer past, we forwent our annual pilgrimage down to the dilapidated shopping centre to eat in, & instead chose to get a take away for my whole family as a thank you for putting up with us invading their home. It was the perfect opportunity to show my son, Zephyrus, the sights & smells of this well-heeled curry emporium.
“Hello mate,” Said Ajmel the long standing head waiter-ish type guy who always serves us. “Is he yours?” He continued pointing at Zeph with a big smile on his face.
“Yeah, we though we’d bring him down to show him what all the fuss is about.” I told him draping my arm across Zephy’s shoulder to make him feel less stared at. “Can we get some food to take away?”
“Sure you can mate.” He said handing over the glossy black menus.
Me, my wife, Zeph & my great-nephew squeezed into a corner table & began to peruse the vast menu.
Once our extensive order had been taken, Ajmel came over to the table & placed a little silver serving tray on the table.
“This is for you mate.” He said to Zeph.
On the tray, still in their recognisable black paper wrappers, were two After Eight mints.
“Thank you.” Zephy sang. (That’s years of training right there. Two simple words said at precisely the right time.)
We collected our order & started the walk home.
“So what did you think of it in there then Zeph?” I said excited to get his take on the place.
“Good,” He said nonchalantly. “I don’t like After Eights but I do like curry.”
A man after my own heart.