On Saturday, whilst Hector was enjoying his Lamb (Desi) Korma (€12.90) at Punjabi Zaiqa (Tromsöer Strasse 6, 13359 Berlin Deutschland), Marg was pioneering the appearance of Aloo Keema (€9.90) in these pages. The Soupçon that crossed the table was a rare – Wow! – moment. Hence, the Hector was back today for Aloo Keema, a Curry further down the list of priorities meaning other favourites were foregone. Such are the number of Desi/Apna options at Punjabi Zaiqa, more than the combined total from all the Curry Houses in Berlin, two South Indian outlets excepted.
Arriving at 14.05, on the last full day of this trip, the exterior photo unashamedly records what will be the last day of temperatures above 20ºC experienced this year. I may now have to accept that summer in Britain, 2024, ain’t coming. The same young chap was front of house. There was a sense of recognition, but no conversation. After Sunday’s Khan Baba experience of great host, lesser Curry, the conclusion was clear, Punjabi Zaiqa would benefit from such a personality out front.
Before ordering Curry, I had to make it clear – no Rice! The Aloo Keema was duly ordered, a Naan (€2.50) would accompany. Inexplicably, Marg was not up for Curry-Heute. Daal Soup (€4.50) was her grande amuse bouche. I took a litre bottle of Sparkling Water (€2.00) from the fridge, and obtained paper cups at the counter.
We sat at the same table as on our previous visit. This time, the TV entertained Marg with scenes the Geographer deduced were from north Pakistan towards Afghanistan. Not the Khyber Pass?
As with Saturday, Punajbi Zaiqa had few sit-in customers, but those who departed were soon replaced. May I also point out that not all were Asian, hopefully, more indigenous Berliners shall make the worthwhile journey to the north of the city.
The food was brought on a large tray and assembled on the table. The Naan, what a Naan! Light in colour, yet there were sufficient burnt blisters, this proved to be the very definition of quality Naan. Piping hot, light and fluffy, a sheer delight, and it was served – whole!
Normally, the Hector would manage only half, Marg helped. Bread with Soup, what next?
Daal Soup
We both expected something thicker, resembling a – Daal. Featuring Red Lentils, this was thinner than even a British Lentil Soup, a Shorva by definition. For once, for Hector there was no Soupçon. Sorry. Marg’s words:
A small bowl of taste. Very red in colour and thinner than expected. Red Daal was thinly spread throughout the soup with blasts of coriander as well. A different flavour for me, and I enjoyed having pieces of hot, fluffy Naan bread to go with it.
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Aloo Keema
Presented in a karahi, from which I chose to eat it, this Aloo Keema was quite a portion. Separating Oil had collected on the rim, on Saturday this was not the case. This Keema was otherwise as – Dry – as it is customarily served, no needless Masala, but sufficient moisture. The Potato was well buried. To get some notion of just how much Potato was present, I mixed up the contents of the karahi. The Oil disappeared, as did most of the toppings of Ginger Strips and Coriander, the Potato was revealed. Now we had an Aloo Keema.
No Peas – I remarked to Marg who then admitted that maybe she didn’t have Peas on Saturday after all. An update required. Dark flecks of Herb had been cooked in. As Marg’s eyes had been drawn to the TV screen, so Hector’s had been to a large box of Kasoori Methi on a shelf in the open kitchen.
The Earthy blast of Flavour was anticipated, the Spice Level was well above – medium – but was never going to make a Hector, sweat. Well Seasoned, but maybe this batch of Keema was below that had on Saturday. Maybe not. No – Wow! – for Hector today, more Methi could have taken me there. Also, the Potato had not had time to take in the full Flavour of the threat of Masala. Too fresh a batch, was the conclusion.
Keema, Mince as we, the British, call it, ground meat elsewhere. This Keema was super-fine, very well ground, beyond anything served by a UK butcher or restaurant. Mince so fine, no teeth were required, no chewing, a strange experience. The Potato aside, one could have eaten this Curry through a straw.
Curry through a straw? No way, Pedro!
The Bill
€20.40 (£17.90) An imaginary number?
The Aftermath
See you next month – may have fallen on deaf ears.
And so to visit my new Berlin home and have a word with the gardener, we need to grow more Methi…
Always on the lookout for new 
We took the U6 to Seestrasse, Kahn Baba is a block east. Arriving at 14.00, Saeed, Mein Host, directed us to the rear right of the restaurant, the tables on the window side being occupied. The menu was brought by a young chap. On studying the lengthy booklet, it was clear that all the Mainstream Dishes were here. Cocktails too, a feature of Mainstream 
In the bottom corner of one page was – Karahi Special. Two portion sizes were on offer commensurate with serious Curry Houses which serve Karahi by weight. Saeed came to take the Order.
Butter Naan (€2.00), Chicken Salat (€6.50) for Marg and a litre bottle of Sparkling Water (€4.90) were added.
I will admit to be surprised at what was presented. Nine large pieces of skewered Chicken Tikka sat atop what, after the Greek leg of this trip, could only be described as a Modest Salad. The red coating only highlights how little of the white meat was actually – Spiced, ergo the repeated observation: there ain’t such a thing as a Chicken Curry. Marg enjoyed her Salad:
A reasonable plate of lettuce, onion, tomatoes and cucumber with about eight pieces of Chicken Tikka. The spices outside of the chicken gave a good blast of flavour to every mouthful. I enjoyed the salad as I have not had too many vegetables in Berlin so far.
Look at the Naan! The Butter Naan must be amongst the smallest ever encountered. The plus, I would manage all of it, a sensible size therefore. The risen, puffy edges were in marked contrast to the centre. Here, the Naan had been elaborately perforated, the method I would love to see, to prevent it rising. Sesame Seeds had been spread across the centre, a Rogni Naan. 
The presentation in the flat karahi impressed. The wedge of Lemon, Ginger Strips and threat of Coriander confirmed that they knew what this was meant to be. The Meat count, on-the-bone as this Karahi must surely be served, reached around a dozen, large pieces. There was a Sucky Bone, yay!
Then there was the Masala which featured no Whole Spices and was comparatively too abundant. I could see pieces of Tomato that were heading towards pulp. If one accepts that a Punjabi Karahi Masala is Tomato based, then why did this one look so – Creamy? The Texture here was simply – wrong. Yes, a spoonful of Yoghurt is a customary ingredient, was too much added? Else, and I wasn’t in the kitchen, it appears to me that Chef pulped some Tomatoes, and why were the skins not removed, then spooned in the House Base Masala. The result? A blend of authentic Karahi Masala and the Mainstream. 
Yadgar 
I asked Saeed how long Khan Baba had been in business.
After 
Once again, U8 was the preferred means of reaching Osloer Strasse, 
Aloo Keema (€9.90) with a Roti made the young chap smile. I held up a photo of the last Lamm Korma had here.
Marg took a litre bottle of Sparkling Water (€2.00) from the fridge and secured two paper cups. 
Sitting mid-room, Marg could see the TV, and an event ongoing at the Kaaba, Macca. I watched the rotating 
The aroma confirmed the efficacy of this Curry, so distinctive. Ginger Strips and Coriander sat atop the karahi laden with Meat and a Shorva-esque Masala. Arranging the Meat on the Basmati, the count reached double figures. The bone count was commensurate with still having plenty to eat, one Sucky Bone. 
The Masala was Thin, but not as watery as the classic Shorva. I dipped my wee piece of Roti in the Masala, – oh yes!
The Meat looks soft – remarked Marg. She was right, of course. Tasty Lamb, giving back some sense of Spice, but not the intensity of Flavour from the Masala. As is the custom when Rice is involved, I had held back a fair quantity of the Masala, für das Endspiel. With careful management, the Masala was eked out such that there was no plain Basmati left on my plate. Hopefully, the empty plate is testimony to the degree of pleasure accrued. This Curry has to be had. 
Again, topped with Ginger Strips and Coriander, the karahi was brimming. This Keema was as it should be, Dry, not even the merest trace of Oil. As Marg cut into a piece of Potato, so the impregnation was visible. The customary Soupçon crossed the table. Another – Wow! – moment. This was superb, a big Meaty blast, Spicy, well Seasoned. This could well be the best Aloo Keema the Hector has encountered, and that based on just the sample. The Hector must experience the full Curry, but that means foregoing Korma/Karahi. Why do I keep coming back to 
Marg couldn’t finish all her Curry echoing the quantity. At home, Takeaway would have been employed, not possible today. Marg’s words:
New Namaste (Wozna 13, 61-777 Poznan, Polska), I wonder what happened to the old one? 
Hector and Marg have two days only in
Delhi Masala Poznan is where I thought I had spotted this rare Curry without red meat. On arrival this afternoon, a waiter said yes, Mein Host – no. Still, I liked the look of this place and it will be the chosen venue next time, plus a return to Wiejskie Jadlo an excellent traditional Polish Restaurant off the west side of Rynek. Roll on 2025. 
Marg was reserving her appetite for this evening’s Polish meal, Samosa Wegetarianske (17.00zl) come as a pair. To accompany, Masala Chai (15.00zl. 
The Pork Vindaloo (38.99zl) has a three Chilli rating on the menu, so why did Mein Host ask if I wanted it – Spicy? Jeera Rice (15.00zl) looked to be the best Rice option. A large bottle of Woda Kropla Beskidu (6.00zl) niegazowana completed the Order. 
The tea arrived next. This is Marg’s area of expertise, no way was the Hector sampling this milky concoction. I’ll just point out that there was no floating Cardamom. 
The Vegetable Samosas were a good size, so a worthy snack. The interior looked well filled. A pity the Hector couldn’t risk sampling any, have I mentioned tonight’s Polish meal? 
I ordered two vegetable samosas. They arrived with a tray of dips. They were hot and full of potato and vegetables. I used the mint dip to give another flavour. Very tasty and filling. 
The Jeera Rice was presented in a standard handi, so lots of it, the European way. I took what I thought I could manage and was impressed by the quantity of Cumin Seeds mixed through, and also finding the whole Star Anise. This Rice was subsequently – tasty. 
These small karahi typically hold more than first appears possible. The swirl of Cream I found to be off-putting, wrong. The Masala, topped with no more than a spoonful of Coriander and Onion rings looked Creamy enough. And why was this? When ordering Vindaloo, one hopes for the definitive wine-based version, as inspired by the Portuguese. Having had my Stifado in 
At least eight, large pieces of Pork, not all fat had been removed, were accompanied by an indeterminate number of Potato pieces. As ever, I retained some Masala for the end game, to ensure I would not just have the copious Rice left on the plate. The blended Masala was viscous, not atypical of any Mainstream restaurant. 
This Curry’s Seasoning immediately registered as – Big! The Spice built but would never reach anything like demanding. So, this was a Vindaloo with a three Chilli rating? For truly 
ur, maybe this is why Mutton is preferred. However, this is where the Potato came to the fore. Spice infused, the Potato saved the day, glorious. A better Texture, a more familiar Texture. Should all Curry include the humble Potato?
The Aftermath
Curry is clearly not a big thing in 
I liked the given description of the Tawa Gosht (€12.00). Beef would be a change from Mutton. Given that the unnecessary 
We arrived this afternoon just after 14.00 and took one of the two remaining tables. There are only four tables at India Gate, seating a maximum of sixteen. All al fresco, there is no seating inside. A young boy cleared the 
debris from the previous occupant, carefully wiped the surface and set up our places. He brought a large bottle of chilled Still Water (€2.00). We attempted to have it replaced by Sparkling but gave up when only 200ml bottles of Soda was established as the alternative. 
We sat and watched the World go by. It was a full thirty minutes wait for the food, so not a rushed job then. I couldn’t help but recall the last Curry I had with Marg outside – 
We both remarked on the size of the pots, small. This feeling was enhanced when the Mushroom Rice was presented. Here was enough to share, and some. The abundant Rice had been spiced a la Biryani. Fresh Mushrooms played their part in making this a quite magnificent Vegetable Rice. 
Topped with Cherry Tomato and a threat of Coriander, the brown Masala looked splendid in the bright sunlight. The viscosity of the Masala was apparent as it, and the Meat were relocated to the plate. For once, I didn’t count the Meat, there was sufficient. Subconsciously, maybe I didn’t want a lot. 
I had chosen Tawa Gosht because of its description, yet there were strips of 
here was a decent, honest attempt. No Whole Spices, nothing in particular that could be identified, but definitely the Flavour of Curry, albeit we’re in Europe and whatever happens over here in Mainstream Curry Houses, that – taste – was present. 
Red, but otherwise, a similarly viscous Masala, but was that Cheese swirled across the top? I’ve been watching too many American cookery videos. Marg assured me it was Cream. The Hector Soupçon was sourced – Sweet. This Curry was for those who like that sort of thing. Marg’s verdict:
A fairly small dish with an abundance of sauce in ratio to the pieces of chicken. A very sweet and thick sauce went well with the Rice. I was ready for this meal and started before the Bread arrived. A crispy and tasty Naan. 
There was just time for one more
To return to another favourite venue was dismissed in favour of further exploration in the Curry Mecca north of Psiri towards Amonia. I had a look at Indian Paradise Kuzina (Koumoundourou 3, Athina 104 35, Hellas) before 
We arrived at Indian Paradise Kuzina at 15.50. It became apparent that initially, the few people eating here were the staff, shots each. Two further customers made me aware, this place is cash only, not that one needs much when dining in this neck of the woods. 
We took the corner table, from there, all could be surveyed. The poster behind Marg with the tiger, proudly proclaimed Bangladesh. The Hector, unashamedly has a preference for the cuisine on the north-western side of the Indian subcontinent. Back in the UK, Bangladeshi Curry Houses are more associated with the – Mainstream. However, here was another Curry Cafe in 
A menu? – I proffered, realising that if I hadn’t seen it by now, there probably wasn’t one. This also meant there were no prices on display, though I had found a graphic online, but cannot verify the age, hence the accuracy. We were invited up to the counter to choose from the prepared meals on display. 
There was a hiatus outside, Marg saw everything, I missed it being actually outside getting more photos, the banners being the only semblance of a menu. The spare piece of ground opposite has been fenced off and is being used as a private car park. A driver came out and almost collided with a passing vehicle. More animated discussion, a pity there’s no movie.
Eight large pieces of Meat, three with large bones, were arranged on the Rice. I didn’t see any fatty bits but did see a mini attachment that might have been offal. This left minimal Masala in the bowl. A Dry Bangladeshi Curry, unusual. 
The single Fish was substantial. White Fish, thick, chunky, it retained its integrity. Visibly Oily, the Masala was a different entity from the above. This was a mash of Tomato and Onion, a different eating experience altogether. The customary Soupçon crossed the table. A Fishy Curry, not to be taken as read. Had I ordered this, I would no doubt have been satisfied, well in a portion with more Fish. However, I would then have missed the outstanding Mutton Curry. 
With the Fish, Masala, Clove-rich Rice, and Salad, Marg had a lot going on. 
I chose to have one piece of Fish (looked like a Lamb Chop in shape) covered with tasty vegetables of onion and tomatoes and spices. I then asked for Rice pointing at the Biryani. The Rice, which had the flavour of cloves complemented the rich oily sauce from the Fish. I added the green salad which was very finely chopped with thin strips of carrot. Overall, full of flavour which tingled my mouth. I removed the bones from the Fish as I ate it. It was a lovely change for me. 
It was Parvez, an even younger chap who cleared the table. My instincts were correct, he was understanding more English. I went up to pay.
What is this? – I asked, pointing to the mass of – foliage – on the counter.
Hector and Marg are in 
En route we passed more untried venues, who knows, I might get round them all, if I live long enough. The Hector does not have to apologise for returning to 
Arriving at 13.20, we took a table inside for a change, but still in the doorway. One day we’ll be recognised, and maybe walk boldly to the upstairs seating. Mein Host approached, not quite a greeting, and had the only other chap we recognised, bring the menu. The waiter seemed to be distracted, always in conversation with people at the counter. He did bring us a table covering, only one other table would be royally treated. 
Unbelievably, prices had not gone up since last year. How they can continue to provide the quantity at the prices charged, remains a mystery. Look at the price of Bread.
Clearly, they cannot be using top quality Meat, but if cooked properly, does that really matter?
Marg tore into the Salad, apart from Feta, all was here that she would have had in a Greek Salad. Everything was fresh, no limp Vegetables. 
When the two karahi were brought to the table, the near absurdity of the laden table made me wonder – who cannot afford to eat here? There was a momentary wait for the Bread – Pakistani Roti (€0.50), a pair, light, fluffy, glorious Bread. The Roti beneath would crisp on one side, this suited Marg. The Hector would have his fill of beautiful fresh Bread. Only a scrap would be left over. 
The brown Masala had a decent viscosity, this was not Shorva, and no sign of Oil, excess or otherwise. There was plenty Masala for dipping. The Meat count was bewildering, this much for so little. OK, the majority of pieces were on-the-bone, and not recognisable cuts of Meat. Some chewy bits, fatty also, no offal. We were not just here because it’s cheap, it’s the quality of the Curry.
The Masala was gorgeous. With the Seasoning to the fore, the Flavours were intense, Earthy, this was authentic Punjabi fayre. No Whole Spices, so no clues as to what was in there, I assume, the lot: Cinnamon, Clove etc. Why I would have so much Bread was all down to the Masala.
Having celebrated the contents of the karahi, it was time to introduce some of the Salad elements. The Tomatoes, dipped in the Masala, wonderful. The Cucumber remained, as Cucumber. Olives, the dry, bitterness, complemented the Masala, a new avenue of Flavour. The solitary Pickled Chilli was Hector’s, no dispute there. Salt, Vinegar, heat, more sensations on the palate. Diversity rules.
Well Keema Mutter actually. The Oil had separated, a wet Keema. Again, the quantity defied belief. The Hector had his Soupçon, the depth of Flavour here was nothing like that of the Karahi. 
A lovely Salad arrived with the usual Raita sauce. Enjoyed this mix.
The Bill
Nine days without Curry, nine days without red meat, the legacy of the 
Pratap pointed to the – Specials – board and suggested Lamb Pepper Fry (£15.00). I gave two reasons why today this would not suit: my excess of Meat in 
A 750 ml bottle of Sparkling Water (£4.50) was dully provided, better value than many an establishment. Suitably chilled, this justified the investment. 
Pratap brought the food and importantly, an extra plate. This included a complimentary Samosa Chat which is not featured on the menu. 
A handi! If these have been on the premises all this time, why serve the Curry on a soup plate? The handi was brimming with Potato, Cauliflower and Peas, fresh Coriander had been stirred in. Dry Curry is Hector’s preference, this Dish had no sign of a Masala, and if this was more of a – stir fry – there was no Oil residue either. 
The blast of Flavour from the Vegetables took me aback. At 
Five large pieces of Haddock, in a Spicy Batter, were accompanied by two Dips and a Salad/Garnish. This was quite a plateful. Each piece of Fish was then halved, further confirming the quantity. The specific mention of – Ginger – had me anticipating a blast of this root vegetable, it came, but later. It was the – Fishiness – which immediately stood out. The Chilli Dip was put to good use. There was another surprise on this plate.
Whoever, dreamt up this combination of Dishes should be congratulated, oh, that’s me!
A Vegetable Samosa, of course, had been cut into pieces and smothered with Yoghurt, I presume, Cumin Seeds and Coriander. Beneath lay the Chilli Sauce and I believe Tamarind may have found its way in here too. Inevitably, the Samosa becomes – soggy – not a favourite texture, but again today, adding to the array. I suspect Chaat Masala had been added here also. I stirred the sauce to combine all the elements, tasty. Much appreciated.
Score out of ten? – asked Pratap.
This was unexpected. Late last night, Mr. O’Leary’s airline informed the Hector that there is a strike at Charleroi Airport, today’s fight cancelled. Rebooked for tomorrow, the challenge was to find a reasonably priced hotel at short notice, anywhere in 
16.00 CET, 15.00 BST, is Hector’s preferred time to eat. If ever the half kilo could be managed, this should be it. I stood just beyond the counter waiting to be recognised as a sit-in customer. A chap invited me to choose any table in the otherwise empty restaurant. The lady, who was clearly today’s hostess, was dealing with departing customers.
The menu at Afghan Darbar bears an uncanny resemblance to the 
Drink?
Given my perspective, I must have been sitting in the 
A chap placed a chit on my table as he brought a Modest Salad, Raita and more Flatbread than I could eat in a week. The Bread was cold, given my increasingly expansive knowledge of Afghan outlets, that’s how it is. This Bread was tough around the edges but manageable in the middle. Had it been Naan, I would have been celebrating three pointy ends. Much Bread would go to waste. I put this down, in part, to the lack of communication. 
Everything was hotter than everything else, care had to be taken not to touch the actual karahi. The Tomato-based Masala was close to that 
The Spice Level took me by surprise, then I noticed the sliced Green Chillies which had not been cooked in, but stirred in towards serving. The Seasoning was well pitched, not as noticeable as last year when it was the immediate standout. 
Was this as 
Brugge, the final full day of this trip, and Dr. Stan has declared an interest in joining Hector for Curry. 
Indian Tandoori (Oude Gentweg 11, 8000 Brugge, Belgien) became my chosen venue for the day. Located in the south-east of the old town, away from the main Grote Markt, Indian Tandoori appears to have been bypassed by too many. It’s a small restaurant, seating thirty. Book in summer.
The Garlic Naan was served quartered, what is wrong with serving Bread – whole? Thin, risen in parts, some blisters, the Naan was suitably light. Instead of Garlic Butter dripping off, grains had been cooked in. This would prove to be acceptable to Hector’s palate and did not overwhelm the Curry. 
I had warned Dr. Stan that European Curry Houses are going to have way more Cream in their Saag/Palak than he is used to at home. Dr. Stan acknowledged the creaminess on its arrival. He worked his way methodically through the pot of Curry, alternating with Rice and Naan before taking most of the remaining Rice. I wasn’t hearing any – Mmmms – today, but this was not a Desi Curry House. 
It was tender meat in a creamy spinach sauce, with subtle spice and flavours.
The handi was piled high with a Thick Masala, this is what I had previously seen, and was my reason for choosing Indian Tandoori. The copious flecks of red made the heart sink. Just how much 
Five decent sized chunks of Fish were arranged over the Rice. There would be plenty of eating here. I separated some of the red flecks then realised, thankfully, that the majority were actually sliced (cherry?) Tomatoes, which had also been cooked in. 
A photo of Ram and Manish was taken, then Chef made an appearance. Well, why not? 
Update September, 2025
