The Bayee Village-The@14TheFrog review.

We've been to the Bayee Village about 93 times, no really we have. When we used to run the Dog and Fox next door, we were on first names terms with all the blokes in the kitchen, or at least we would have been if any of them had the faintest idea what we were on about. Only a bloke called Chow could really speak English, but anyway we once invited them all to Christmas dinner with us and they came too. Lovely people they were (and no doubt still are). Even the little fella who set fire to his room once (they used to have a couple of rooms upstairs) can rest easy, I've forgiven him now. Many years ago I caught our pub dog at the time (Effie) running around with a live lobster in her mouth which she'd purloined from their as yet unpacked seafood delievery (I bunged it back in and said no more about it, OK I'm not proud of it but it was still alive for Gawds sake don't make me feel bad). I've got loads of stories, and it's fair to say our affinity with Marco and Peter is long standing, as it is with the restaurant which now sits on the old "Finch's" site.

Over the years little has changed with the Bayee. Yes these days there's a beardy man tinkling away on a Grand piano, you may even run into a dodgy Elvis impersonator from time to time (don't ask me why I've no idea), but as far as the food and the service is concerned, very little alters. Even the menu doesn't change much, and none of this is a criticism because nor should it. In short, the food is bloody good and you don't survive as long as these guys have if that isn't the case.

Last night we were a party of six which included Sarah's brother, the much vaunted (but completely anonymous in the UK) volleyball coach Hugh McCutcheon, as well as Kenny, one of the US team managers for the upcoming Olympics. These guys travel the World and eat in some pretty good places, but we were pretty confident that the Bayee wouldn't shame us or make us look clueless in the old nosebag department, so off we went.

For starters, we had all sorts of stuff. There was soft shell crab (which is flippin brilliant from here), some "short" ribs which my Dad claims to this day is the nicest thing he's ever eaten in his life, some pork dumplings, salt and pepper squid and all sorts of other stuff which I can't remember right now.

Then we had a "middle" course of the old duck with the pancakes and hoi sin sauce, the shredded cucumber and all that malarkey. To be honest, if I could only ever eat one thing from now on and this was it, naturally I'd be a bit gutted but for a couple of weeks I'd be well happy. You know the drill here, your supposed to nibble away but everyone dives in like loonies so that when the mains come you can barely eat any.

For mains we were doing that "here try some of this" routine which everyone seems to do in Chinese resataurants, and a combination of the many different flavours and probably one too many Chinese beers (chin sow, or something like that) means that I can't remember too much about it. It was great though, and I managed to spill a bit down the front of my best jumper I noticed this morning (always a good sign).

The service is always excellent, my only gripe being the "top the wine up" routine which does wind me up a fraction but never mind. They gave us a glass of bubbly on the old Mickey Mouse when we got there, as well as those bafflingly pointless fortune cookie things when we were leaving.

I'll be honest, we flippin loved it but then we always do. The Bayee may not be the coolest or the trendiest Chinese restaurant in London, but the food is as good as you're going to get. Pete who runs it is a great guy, and Marco who owns it is a lovely fella too. Go, I absolutely guarantee you'll enjoy it.

Amed Curry House, Wimbledon. The @14TheFrog review.

Amed is old school. No open kitchens, neatly stacked food or dishes which contain tamarind or galangal or any of that old nonsense. If Amed was a comedian it'd be Bernard Manning, it'd tell jokes about your mother in law and be mildly offensive to people who work in local government and/or have all the Levellers albums. You know what to expect the minute you walk in, and there's something quite reassuring about carpet with gaffa tape over the holes, the purple woodwork and the piped music which sounds a bit like the stuff off "It ain't half hot mum".

We arrived about 9ish on a Thursday night and it was about 2/3 full. I had two lady companions, not because I've gone or gangsa or pimpish in my old age, it was my wife and a good friend of ours. The two girls must have got swept up in the retro nostalgia because as I was busy ordering popadums and a bottle of Kingfisher, they ordered a bottle of Matteus Rose (I didn't even realise they still made it).
On the question of popadums Ajmed is in the "how many would you like?" bracket, whereas some places these days just give you one each. I was a bit stumped and order four between three of us without really knowing why, and when they came they were good. It's all about the chutneys and pickles really though, and the lime pickle was searingly hot and excellent. There were a couple of others which were a bit out there, one of which looked and tasted so much like tomato ketchup that I'd have to say that using the duck theory, probably was tomato ketchup. Indian people quite possibly eat lots of the stuff for all I know, but it was a bit out there all the same.

For proper starter I had a mixed grill thing, (for 2). It had chicken tickka on it, some lamb kebab things and something else which I can't for the life of me remember right now. It was probably actually about enough for one and a half, but I can see their dilemma in that it would read a bit strange on the menu if described too literally. It also had that sweet yellow minty sauce which you get in all Indian restaurants of this ilk, and it was good. Needless to say I wolfed the lot, save for a couple of "ooh lets have a bit of that" from the two girls.

Main was a chicken madras, boiled rice and naan bread. I got exactly what I expected, even down to the waiter bloke polishing the plate before he put it on the table which they always seem to do in places like this. He brought the food over on a little trolley, and he put all the dishes on these little steel table stand things. You always imagine they'll be searingly hot which would give the whole ritual a point, but of course they never are. Still, he seemed to be pretty happy to go through the whole rigmarole, so fair play to him and no harm done.

Anyway it was bloody good, I was full as a gun long before I'd actually stopped eating, and left there very happy with life (and dying to fart as well to tell the truth, but this is more a comment on my gastric situation than in any way reflective of the food). They didn't bother offering us desserts which is just as well (Kulfi is something everyone should experience but only once), and all in all the service had that weary professionalism of fellas who knew they were giving you what you wanted without poncing around where it wasn't needed. If these blokes were barbers, they wouldn't waste their time asking you where you were going on holiday, they'd just give you a good haircut.

The bill was about 70 quid, which considering the two girls had two bottles of the wine with the rope round the neck is very reasonable. Amed is a good old fashioned curry house, go and wollow in it. You won't be disappointed.