Neil Sowerby
Once upon a time there was Rusholme, the brash, spicy strip whose eateries defined curry for Mancs. Each had its champions. Whenever I was an away fan at Maine Road, City fans (not used to being champions) would take me pre-match to one or the other and weâd drink lager and taste identikit coarsely hot food whatever the joint, chipped formica or grubby tablecloth, flock wallpaper eventually fighting a losing battle against Bollywood purple or chrome and black.
In culinary terms a bore draw, which rarely happened at the now-demolished Theatre of Screams. Glad to see even Middle Eastlands can still defer ultimate gratification in the true Blue tradition. What a shame itâs so far away from decent restaurants (Vermilion aside) and proper pubs. But I digress. Rusholme still gets a roaring trade, Iâm sure, but not mine.
Seek no further than the city centre these days, home to a new generation of smart Indian restaurants and, if none of the food quite matches the exotic allure of the Tamil Nadu cuisine at Sanmini out in its Ramsbottom gatehouse, there is still much to savour. The wake-up call ironically comes from places loaded with Zzzzzs â Zaika, Zouk, EastzEast and Zakbar (actually Akbar, just a bit of journalistic licence there). All are offshoots of family restaurants that have come up in the world elsewhere (in Zouk and Akbarâs case, West Yorkshire) and fancy a bit of big city Manchester action.
My long-time favourite lunchtime biryani and Cobra bolthole, Shimla Pinks, its name redolent of a fading Raj, has stopped clinging on by its curry-stained fingernails in Spinningfields in the face of this ultra-smart competition. Thereâs another contender now, Swadesh (pictured), a name that has a swagger about it. Deflatingly, it means âOne Own Countryâ in Hindi. It has moved into what was Ikan on Portland Street. This, you may recall, served Thai oriental fusion in a large glass-fronted space that resembled a car showroom transformed into a lacquered jewelbox. I never quite warmed to it.
Itâs hard not to warm to Swadesh, just a street or two away from the glacial shoe-ins that often greet you in Chinatown, but with wonderful, warm welcoming (and efficient) staff. The large gleaming interior is softened by large beige drapes and some chic artwork. I had expected them to follow the template of the original Swadesh in Bowdon, which had transformed a large suburban pub into what reminded me of a large white and golden wedding cake. I oddly liked the look and the lavishness of curried lobster and a decent wine list for a change. The food, though, was all creamy sauce and subtle spicing that was just too subtle for its own good. It lacked Zing. Oh, those Zzzzs again.
The new manifestation lacks that Bowdon kind of lavishness (no lobster), but the food does maintain the lack of zing, alas. Perhaps we were the victims of allowing an assiduous waiter to choose house specialities on our behalf. Chicken, he informed us, was inevitably off the bone unless specifically stated. Medium hot, as in the case of our chicken and lamb dishes, meant pretty mild. Among some steady starters, a king prawn tikka (£7.90) from the the tandoori was gutsier.
Ditto, my favourite dish (£6.90 as a main, £3.90 side), an earthy, almost herbal, saag paneer, the cubes of curd cheese not rubbery as so often, the spinach with texture. Naans came in digestible sizes compared with the rug-sized offerings on racks at rivals such as East Z East and Akbarâs. Rivals is the word. There is tough competition out there and I think Swadeshâs lunch provision of a buffet sends out the wrong signals. Perhaps I will be proved wrong. Perhaps this more Western user-friendly version of Punjabi cuisine is what folk want. Owner Salim Muhammed has a strong track record from his Sangam chain.
Speaking of chains, does the opening of a second outlet for Didsburyâs popular Khandoker constitute a chain? Owner Salim Uddin-Khandakar wears many commercial hats, including running the Didsbury Magazine with wife Beverley and the decision to move into leafy, affluent Bramhall rather than take a punt at the city centre with its daunting overheads displays much acumen.
The new venture sits, flat-fronted in the middle of a sedate parade of shops on Fir Road, suburbia incarnate. The official address is Cedar Tree House, which sounds rather posh, but if it wasnât housing a rather chi-chi new restaurant it could easily do service as a posh laundrette. The new Khandoker is less ostentatious than Swadesh, with around 60 covers in a tasteful slightly narrow room. A monochrome print fills one wall, a long blue-fronted bar the other. It is not going to win any design awards and the âcontemporary Indian cuisineâ offers no great surprises, yet it all works beautifully as an upmarket neighbourhood Indian.
There is a fresher, better balanced feel to the menu than at Swadesh. We eschewed the traditional curry list from Jalfrazi to Vindaloo, designed not to scare the more cautious Bramhall natives in favour of mains off the Khandoker Contemporary and Specialities list. There is also Morich Style and Roshon style on offer. I wish Iâd asked. One certainly contains more green chillies, the other extra garlic.
Pick was easily Esa Palong (£11.95) melding king prawns and spinach, green chillies and coriander. A lovely dish. Just as fresh-tasting was the tangy, tomato-laden Fish tenga (£10.95), whose spices enhanced rather than obliterated chunks of cod. Slightly bitter aubergine flavours dominated our third main, Kakri Chicken (£9.45).
So Khandoker shades it over Swadesh, yet it doesnât quite offer enough to drag townies all the way down to Bramhall village and beyond. Swadesh is a well-run operation, but faces stern competition. Both should fare well.
Swadesh
The Piazza, 98 Portland Street, Manchester M1 4GY
Tel: 0161 236 1313 or 0161 236 1999
E: www.swadeshrestaurant.co.uk
Khandoker
10 Fir Road, Bramhall, Cheshire SK7 2NP
Tel: 0161 439 1050 or 0161 439 0055
E: www.khandoker.co.uk