This is going to be a long day. Having checked in at The Lord Clyde where the Münchener Oktoberfestbier was already flowing, Hector the abstemious, headed up the slope to The Kashmir Restaurant (27 Morley St, Bradford BD7 1AG England). As I approached the Morley Street entrance at 12.40, so I saw people sitting in the upstairs restaurant. This early, most unusual. I headed downstairs, darkness, about turn.
Jan was there to greet upstairs, he read my puzzled face.
Downstairs no more.
Now we know.
Five fellow diners were in situ, I sat close to the till and adjacent to two University chaps deep in conversation about rogue students. Education, do I miss it? Consider this: half of the population are of below average intelligence, OK, median.
Jan brought water, the modest Salad and Raita, and the menu. I took my time to study the menu, I had no idea what to have. If I come back on Sunday morning, that will be Fish Karahi (£11.90). Somehow, I unwittingly chose a Kashmir Curry which has not appeared in these pages before – Meat Potato Masala (£10.80), or Aloo Gosht as it is called elsewhere.
Chapattis? – asked Jan.
This was confirmed. Kashmir retains the Bradford tradition of inclusive Bread. Confirmation that we are basically being ripped off at way too many venues. No need to play – The Poppadom Game – here either, they simply arrive, also inclusive.
With two Poppadoms sat before me, I thought I had better make some effort. No sooner had I started when the food arrived.
Three Chapattis, the ones I was brought up on, thin, unobtrusive, and no sign of Wholemeal Flour. As ever, I would manage no more than two.
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Meat Potato Masala
There was plenty of Meat on the plate, no need to count. Larger cuts than the Bradford-small I have become used to. Is this no longer the Bradford way? With the skin visible on the Potatoes, I concluded New Potatoes. The non-porous skin would surely restrict the absorption of the Masala. The exposed, cut side would have to do all the work. Pieces of Tomato had been cooked in. All was set.
The Seasoning was decidedly low, the Spice built quickly. The Potatoes were approaching al dente, firm. As expected, they had not had time to absorb the Masala Flavours, a pity. The Tender Meat, was this Beef, was doing the work. The Meat was giving off a dry Spiciness. I write oft of Meat and Masala that are strangers until the point of serving, not the case here. This Meat was totally giving of Flavour.
Flavour? The Bradford Herb-blast was not emanating from either Meat or Masala, instead, just the blend of Spices. A whole Clove and a Coriander Seed were set aside. Whole Spices, a parameter which defines – Desi. The still hot Tomato added another dimension. Lots going on here.
The Curry finished, Jan was for clearing the table. I asked that he leave the Salad, Poppadoms and Raita. Poppadom for Dessert, this worked. Way better than spoiling one’s appetite at the start of a meal. I ate one.
The Bill
£10.80 Cash only.
The Aftermath
I asked Jan if I had eaten Beef or Mutton.
Not, lamb, mutton.
And so for Huddersfield. With major railway works ongoing, the shorter route via Brighouse was a replacement bus. Instead, I found myself changing at Leeds and approaching via Wakefield. Wakefield, I need to get back there, Syhiba Restaurant is overdue another visit. Then there’s Curry in Huddersfield, six years since I had Curry there. The Hector is not ubiquitous.