You walk in, and the vibe is immediately warm. It’s not trying to be a pretentious London hotspot; it’s just nice. The staff greet you like they’ve been expecting you, even if you booked ten minutes ago in a panic because you forgot it was your mum’s birthday. They get it.
Now, the menu. Oh, the menu. It’s like a glorious love letter to South Asian cuisine, but with a cheeky wink to British curry house classics. You’ve got your Jalfrezis that actually kick, Bhunas that cling to your spoon like treacle, and Kormas so creamy they could be dessert. Pro tip: don’t even look at the menu until you’ve ordered a round of popadoms and those tangy little pickles. It’s the law.
The “Cheeky Vindaloo” Question
Are you feeling brave? Have you had your tetanus shot? Because the Vindaloo here is not messing around. My mate Dave—a man who claims he can eat ‘anything spicy’—ordered it once and spent twenty minutes fanning his mouth with a napkin while sweating in places napkins shouldn’t go. Legend has it the chef adds a tiny bit of ‘love’ which is actually just pure capsaicin extract. Order it if you dare, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.
For the sensible folk (like me), the Chicken Tikka Masala is a revelation. It’s the dish that should be boring by now, but Tipu Sultan’s version is like the Beyoncé of curries—always on point, always a showstopper. The chicken is so tender it practically whispers goodnight to your taste buds as you swallow.
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