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.
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