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My wife is less happy with her prawn puree. Its shell is flabby rather than crisp although the contents in their coconutty sauce are fine.
And when he asked if we had enjoyed the meal I broke my golden rule when I'm unhappy, which is to keep schtum.
My wife picks at her chicken dish. "It tastes like a supermarket's two for 5 special," she says. I dip in and she's right. Bland again. Mussallam sauce made with yoghurt, coconut or almonds, sometimes all three, depending on the recipe, should be a lustrous blanket for the meat. This is so dull you can Nike Womens Tank Tops
He said the kitchen would make me another, spicier, one to take away. I demurred. He insisted.
are now another Indian restaurant called , the latest in a chain which includes Bawtry's Dower House, winner of last year's British Curry Awards, Almas and the Samad Cottage in Dronfield, among others, which suggests a good pedigree.
We'd ordered karahi keema and matter (7.50), a traditional 'desi' special, Mughlai chicken mussallam (7.30), tarka daal (3.40), as well as Peshwari naan (2.80) and pullao rice (2.50).
"We are sorry to report that the Saffron Club in Sheffield has closed. One of the best there was. RIP."
Sheffield S10 2GW
And all failing.
According to the menu, the has three specialist chefs, for Mughlai, balti and biryani, and tandoori dishes but you'd never have guessed it.
Well, there's nothing wrong with that, provided it is done well. The premises New Nike Shorts Online
The keema is lamb mince with vegetables but the spicing is bland. It tastes like it would at home if you mixed a little bit of leftover mince with some half cooked onions and peppers and a tiny pinch of Sharwoods' curry powder.
The tarka daal is watery and under spiced, the rice a little clumpy and so it comes as a relief when we discover the naan is warm, chewy and sweet. But that doesn't make a meal.
At this point I should reintroduce the nice young chap with blank menus who couldn't sell a table. If there was anything right about , it was him.
It's not that busy and a personable young fellow offers us a table for two. We reject it because it's going to be a squash with the number of dishes we order. He tries again with the next couple but it turns out they've mistaken for Hui Wei, the Chinese place with which it shares an entrance, so they get up and leave.
Indeed, they'd made it their restaurant of the year in 2006.
Our bill (still on a Saffron Club receipts), with that lassi and a coke (3.20) came to 38.40, for the poorest Indian meal we've eaten for years.
Which poses the question: Can an Indian be too posh for Sheffield? Or too adventurous?
You could say the same of Caf Guru nearby on Westfield Terrace and of the ill fated Aroma on London Road, also going for a more sophisticated customer.
But, picking a dish at random, the keema, I said it had been bland.
It's not his night because he also offers us blank menu covers with nothing inside them. After that, he inspects each menu carefully. We were not yet to know it will not be our night either.
Pops and pickles (3.70) are average. The chutneys seem weaker and less well flavoured than usual but I have a hit with my babori mix starter (4.50), particularly the lemony pieces of tandoori chicken. There's also a gutsy sausage like sheikh kebab and an onion bhaji.
It has made its reputation with sound, traditional cooking for the British market.
I went only once (it's another week, another restaurant for the likes of me) but I knew how they felt. The Saffron Club with its gourmet menu did something a little bit new in the city. It was Nike T-shirts 2017
"Are you ready for your mains?" asks The Man In A Hurry, almost hurling new cutlery at the table. We are. But then we really start to nose Nike Dri Fit Socks dive.
upmarket, used Indian spicing in Western style dishes and didn't come cheap, which might have been the trouble.
Saffron Club's ex owner Naz Islam thinks the latter. "Sheffield likes Indian cuisine simple and standard," he sighed after selling up.
's dcor is pretty much the same as it was for the Saffron Club all spicy browns and red and there's nothing to suggest that this is an Indian restaurant apart from the black clad waiters and the menus.
I'd asked for a lassi to drink but they only did mango. Now many asian restaurants buy this in ready made which is why I usually ask for a salty one. He said he'd give it a try. Nice one, but it was made with milk and not quite the pukka job. Still, he was willing.
My time comes later.
So we left with a free takeaway (which is now biding its time in the freezer).
We dub the waiter's colleague The Man In A Hurry. "Are you ready for your mains?" he asks after our pops are cleared away. Hang on, we haven't had our starters yet.
almost hear it yawn.
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