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You are here: Home › Food & Drink › Indian
Rajdoot, Manchester
Jonathan Schofield finds it a right curry carry-on at one of the city’s oldest sub-continental restaurants
Date Published: 20/11/2008
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“Table for two please.” “Could you please sit here?” Our waitress, a lady in a whole symphony of red, pointed to some comfortable looking fixtures and fittings in the reception area. “Actually can we dine straightaway, we’re in a hurry.”
![]() “You don’t want to sit here?” “No, could we go straight to a table.” Pause. Look. Almost imperceptible shake of the head. “Yes, as you wish,” Her Royal Redness said huffily. We’d clearly done something wrong, made a Rajdoot faux pas. It was as though at the Ambassador’s soirée in the Ferrero Rocher advert I’d clumsily stood on the guest of honour’s foot. For the rest of the meal she hovered in the near distance, glancing over at us as a giant young man in a blue shirt took charge. He was a lovely lad, very attentive, and nice in an engagingly untrained way. He kept knocking things over. The whole experience began to take on a dreamlike character. The napkin had holes in it as though people had sneakily been breaking the smoking ban and hiding fags in their laps. The flower on the table had drooped. As we talked and tried to keep a straight face, our lad got into a full on wrestling match with a bottle of house white. He pulled at the cork like a tug-of-war contestant, turning away and sighing before triumphing as the cork popped out with the noise of a small bomb exploding half a mile away. I found it unsettling that the theme of Laurel and Hardy wasn’t playing. As for the food, it was fine. Very confusing. In fact it was occasionally very good. None of the dishes sampled on the two occasions I visited were the stodgy affairs beloved of the lager drinking classes after midnight: a time when suddenly nothing matters except more lager and the need to avoid going home. The dishes were subtle and nuanced, delicate in execution and shot through with flavour – almost sophisticated. The lamb jalfrezi (£7.95) was a good example of this, with the meat tender, its taste not overwhelmed by a gently spiced sauce of green pepper together with tomatoes. In fact I wanted to lick the dish it came in. Then again I was hungry. |
Best of all though was a lamb pasanda (£8.95). I normally can’t stand dishes cooked with cream. This is down to a disturbing experience with a carbonara in an Italian restaurant during my formative years. Too obvious a presence of cream in savoury dishes drags my tastebuds down into the doldrums. They start to sulk like a lady in red who’s been told by guests they want to go straight through to the dining section. But here the sauce was splendid, finger tip balanced, with the cream an element but paying due deference to that special pasander flavour of almond enlivened with cardamom and cinnamon. Other dishes enjoyed over the visits included bhuna gosht (£7.75), lamb with mushrooms, capsicums, spring onions and fenugreek and a rogan josh (£7.50) with spiced garlic, tomatoes and cashew nuts. The rice was always cooked well and never lumpy, clumpy or heavy. A side of tarka dal (£4.50), lentils cooked with tomatoes, ginger and garlic, softened by roast cumin seeds was a total success, as was the bengan aloo (£4.50), aubergines and potatoes with tomatoes and cumin again. The only real no-no was the functional and uninspiring chutney entrée. Strange place, the Rajdoot. The food is good British Indian while the service is authentic Carry On Up the Khyber. If Hattie Jacques could play the lady in red, and Bernard Bresslaw our waiter in blue, it’d be spot on. In Carry On Up the Khyber, Bresslaw plays Bungdit Din, a Burpa Chief who fits the bill beautifully. Rajdoot, Manchester, is part of a chain. There are others in Birmingham, Bristol, Dublin and Fuengirola. Having a restaurant in Fuengirola is somehow depressing: it paints a picture of baked Brits who’ve never learned Spanish nostalgic ‘for an Indian’ in a restaurant the local Spanish avoid. It’s a layer of remove too far: ex-pat Pakistanis serving ex-pat Britons in a third party country. But I digress. People tell me that the Rajdoot in Manchester was the Indian restaurant of choice 20 years ago. Not sure it’s that now, but with that decent food and an attractive decor it’s worth a visit if you’re passing and have a passion for a pasanda. As long as you don’t mind odd service standards. ![]()
![]() Venues are rated against the best examples of their kind: fine dining against the best fine dining, cafes against the best cafes. Following on from this the scores represent: 1-5 saw your leg off and eat it, 6-9 get a DVD, 10-11 if you must, 12-13 if you’re passing,14-15 worth a trip,16-17 very good, 17-18 exceptional, 19 pure quality, 20 perfect. More than 20: Gordo gets carried away |
Janie Morrison says..“ Brilliant review. Had me in stitches. Especially the clumsy lad. Bless him. But I still like it in here it seems tucked away and the food as the article points out is v good.”
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Rob says..“ Been a few times and the food is nearly always very good, much better than most places in Rusholme.”
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Stevo says..“ Best curry in Manchester? On Burton Rd, West Dids - The Gurkha Grill. Shame the curry mile is such a shabby affair - it really has gone down the pan in the last 5 years :-(”
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Avo says..“ A very timely review Schofield seeing as though National Curry Week starts this weekend! ”
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emma grace says..“ Dave, the last I heard from the owner was feb/march...”
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