My son Shakir is back in Pakistan after an eight-month stint in the US, and is sending me details of various meals consisting of his favourite desi delicacies. He began with nihari and went on to gobble up kebabs, biryani and home-made payas. Clearly, he had been suffering from withdrawal symptoms, and is now getting his chilli fix with a vengeance. When I asked him why he didn’t seek out Pakistani / Indian restaurants in the States, he said there was nothing as awful as bad desi food.

After a recent experience in London, I can attest to the truth of this opinion. By and large, the standard of desi food in Britain is higher than in the United States, given the large number of Indians, Pakistanis and Bangladeshis here. Also, Brits have an abiding taste for food from the subcontinent, and thousands of desi eateries cater to a variety of palates and budgets. At the top end you get expensive, Michelin-starred restaurants in London’s Knightsbridge; at the other extreme are the balti joints that are hugely popular in Manchester.

Last week, I had the misfortune to go to Chakra for dinner. This restaurant opened in London’s fashionable Notting Hill district with much fanfare a couple of years ago, getting several good reviews. Gossip columns mentioned the names of celebrities who had broken bread there, and for a while, it was the place to go and be seen.

What to do when you are out of the homeland and pining for desi food?

Apart from curiosity, we went there because it was conveniently located for our elderly guest who lives around the corner. When we entered at eight, only one other table was occupied. The interiors were pleasant, if bland. At least there was none of the Indian kitsch that so often clutters the walls of many desi joints.

When I opened the menu, I sucked in my breath at the prices. Starters ranged from eight to 14 pounds, while the main courses were around 15 pounds. At these prices, the food had better be exceptional, I though to myself. Sadly, it was mediocre at best. I ordered reshmi kebab (9.95) and adraki gosht (13.95). The former was made of chicken, not lamb, and was quite dry; the latter was smothered in a bland, creamy sauce that had hardly any hint of ginger. Hoping to score at least one out of three, I ordered mishti doi, the luscious milk-based Bengali dessert. This turned out to be not remotely like the mishti doi I know and love. Our guest, not very knowledgeable about desi food, was very complimentary to the staff, promising to return. I did not have the heart to put him off a meal he had clearly enjoyed.

Fortunately, I did get to eat some excellent authentic desi food on the same visit to London. We were staying with an old friend, Syra Vahidy, and she had invited a few friends for dinner. Syra knows an Indian chef who, while employed by somebody else, is happy to cook for parties elsewhere. She had asked him for biryani, koftas and daal. I was asked to make some kuchumbur.

By and large, the standard of desi food in Britain is higher than in the United States, given the large number of Indians, Pakistanis and Bangladeshis here.

Everything was expertly prepared: the biryani was moist, but the rice was not overcooked while the koftas were firm. Apparently, the chef prepares the meatballs and then puts them in the oven to cook before being finished in the sauce. I have never made koftas, and must remember this technique when I do.

On the same trip, we went to Miran Masala, a Lahori restaurant near Olympia in West London to book a room for a party the lady wife wants to throw for her daughters and their friends next month. At 10 pounds a head for a meal consisting of haleem and nihari, it’s pretty reasonable. I know it is anathema to serve them together, but the chef here does a good job with both, and the lady wife and the kids all love these delicacies. At least we won’t have to pay a fortune as we did at Chakra.

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, September 20th, 2015

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