Moghul, Horsforth (December 2014)

Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg etc etc. Yes, the festive edition of curry club arrived with a trip to Horsforth for the final club of 2014. Pre-curry drinks kicked off in the Town Street Tavern, unsurprisingly located on Town Street. A superb little 'boozer' specialising in ales, the drink of choice (except for Matty who would drink Guinness stood admiring the great Pyramids of Egypt) was the 2014 Champion Beer Of Britain - Timothy Taylor's Boltmaker. And a fine drop it was too. Breaking the trend and looking to demolish himself, Broad was on the big guns, sinking pints of Erdinger as the vice banter flowed like a river -  a nod to Scatman John must be had (RIP). With the night concluding at Moghul restaurant, the group began to remember our last venture there and the age old debate of which curry was hotter - the Handi or the Jaflong. Both camps remained divided but with the dishes in question just around the corner, a conclusion was on the horizon. Moving on, we hit the new 80's bar up the street, called….err, 80's bar?! Anyway, Matty was feeling the effects of the cheeky few consumed in the afternoon as he exclaimed his displeasure with the lack of people in the bar to its staff. And with a new bar came new beers, however a swift taste of the gash 'Yardbird' led to a swapsy to the tastier Noble. Even with an empty bar, the fine 80's music still managed to get one or two up to dance like nobody was watching. Moving on, we headed over the road to the trendy Sandbar - sporting some unique Gargoyle urinals. Over the final beers, TTT pretended to be a GP with his medical advice found on the back of a beermat, and we reminisced of Gledhill's after shower dressing habits - socks on first and parade around for a bit. Needing to eliminate that vision from our minds, it was time to head to the curry house.

Moghul, Horsforth.

After finding the correct entrance (it's not confusing at all, the beers had kicked in), we were welcomed with open arms into the small, but quaint restaurant that is Moghul. As it doesn’t hold a license to serve alcohol, some fine pre-club preparation was undertaken by club host Scott in bringing along a crate of Cobra to keep the masses happy. Something which eluded TTT as later in the evening he asked the waiter for another Cobra, much to his confusion. So it was straight into the menu, which presented some great options to choose from, and the poppadoms arrived swiftly  - accompanied by an unusual pickle tray, containing 'break from the norm' sauces, like lime pickle. The order was taken by pleasant staff, with the sundries again ordered using the patented TTT 'hand towel or bath towel' methodology. And with various versions of the infamous Handi and Jaflong ordered by most members, we'd discover which would take the 'curry heat' crown for sure. Other dishes included a Chicken Tikka balti and lamb and mushroom mixed curry. Waiting for our starters, it was clear another debate was to be had - who was the most whammed between Broady and Matty. With Matty slumped in his chair, slurring and needless volume with his words, to Broady's ridiculous presidential-esque speech requesting we take pictures of our poo for the blog gas factor (something which won't be happening dear readers!), it was declared both were worthy winners.

 

Ding Ding!

The starters arrived of three mixed platters absolutely stacked with food (more than enough for 9 diners) - including battered prawns, battered chicken and burger shaped sheesh kebabs. And tasty enough it was too, although somewhat let down by the fact the prawns still had the shells on - something which was cunningly disguised by the batter. It was then on to the title bout as the mains arrived - in the red corner was the Handi, and the blue corner - the Jaflong. As the immortal Apollo Creed once said - "Ding ding". And what a contest it was, with both dishes proving to be packing some serious spice - the Handi even raising a 'this Handi is hot as sh*t!' from TTT.

What was clear though, is that although both dishes were hot, they were very tasty indeed. The heat was probably more of a theme for the restaurant as a whole, as the Chicken Balti also had a kick to it - as did pretty much everyone else's, resulting in some Raita yoghurt sauce being ordered to cool things down a bit and Broady drinking water direct from the jug. For the first time in a while there was some mumblings of 'bagging up' (no diggity, no doubt), most likely due to the volume of starters, but this was soon squashed as dishes were fully consumed and enjoyed by all.

Coming in at a more than reasonable £153, it seemed like good value - although with one man down due to illness, and no alcohol charges, it was probably on par with the rest upon reflection. So if you like a reasonable priced, spicy but tasty curry then Moghul is your place.

The journey home is worthy of note, with a joint rendition of The Carpenters classic 'We've Only Just Begun' ensuring a jovial finish to the year. Although some questions were raised and remain unanswered - firstly, why does Magic 828, with today's technology, still sound like you're listening through a glass pressed against a wall? And secondly, I've no idea how this question came about, but is legendary TV presenter and all round tanned entertainer Des O'Connor dead or alive? Quite frankly, I'm happy this one was left unanswered as its comforting to know that he could well be both over or under ground - a quandary similar to Schrödinger's cat.

A tip of the cap to our southern colleague Wheeler on the safe arrival of his daughter, and I'll sign off by wishing all a very, very…..very merry Christmas.

Cheers

Danny

Nawaab, Leeds (November 2014)

Guess who's back…..back again….club is back….tell a friend. After what seemed to be an age since the last instalment of Curry Club (thanks to weddings and honeymoons), it was back for November's venture into Leeds city centre. With host, myself, fresh from stateside honeymooning (USA USA!) it seemed appropriate to continue the American theme, and so pre-curry drinks took place in Roxy Bar, just off Boar Lane, for some 'frat party' style beer pong. Beers in hand and customary red beer cups on the playing table, there was debate about the actual rules of what is essentially 'throwing a ping pong ball into a beer filled cup'. Rules googled, teams divided, we were ready to commence. It wasn't long before corruption reigned, as Temple and Broady blowed and batted balls away (wayyyyy), and Gledhill's slam dunk leaning technique raised eyebrows from the opposition. Needless to say, justice was served accordingly. Once the anarchy had settled and we accepted that beer pong is tougher than it should be, TTT found his range - dominating Listep who became more unruly with every losing swig. As the cups fell there were plenty of high fives and 'whoopin and a hollerin' to be enjoyed and the game came to a welcome close. Temple's moans of having to drink the losing pint fell on deaf ears.

Step aside Gump - we don't need no CGI.

Wishing to complete the full 'pong' games spectrum, it was on to play ping pong - some for the very first time in their life……which showed….no names mentioned……Scott! A loose round robin of doubles matches saw some epic ping-pong-play, with big shots, spins and slams a plenty. Differing levels of skill were on display but an 'on his toes' Broady showed movement reminiscent of Forrest Gump (I love you Jenny!) - although mainly when the ball wasn't in play. After dry humping Grimes against the wall after a victory - I sensed it was time to wrap up the ping pong, finish our drinks and head off to play curry pong.

Nawwab, Wellington Street, Leeds

Under new management and a recent refurbishment led to high expectations for Nawaab's, but upon entry, thoughts were drawn that  'refurbishment' was a bit of a stretch - perhaps 'had a lick of paint' on the poster wouldn’t quite pull them in. Still, it was never shabby in the first instance so the club wasn't too disappointed in that respect - but the lack of greeting as the club swaggered in was a minor negative footnote. Barman notified and drinks poured, we were then escorted to our table and things took a positive turn as the poppadoms and pickle trays appeared with turbo-timing. After a short perusal of the menu, the food was ordered with TTT asking the waiter if the naan's were 'hand towels or bath towels' - which raised chuckles from all but on reflection is a logical and useful metaphor when it comes to ordering sundries. The banter continued to flow as the pickle tray ran out and the poppadoms became a distant memory. Just as we began to wonder if the chef had left for the evening, our plates arrived in preparation for the mixed platter starters. Unfortunately, the plates remained unused for a further 10 minutes, prompting Listep to devour his garnish like an overly peckish gannet. 45 minutes from ordering and at last, the platters arrived and thankfully they were worth the wait, with plenty to go around and some impressively large prawns.

Another longish wait followed for the mains, which meant the club was somewhat underwhelmed with the service received, especially as some plates were more thrown down than placed. However, the chef clearly made up for the lack of speed with quality as once we were able to tuck in to our dishes, they were truly delicious. The time lapse had caused some memory loss in some, as Listep had to enjoy a very creamy dish instead of his own order, which was taken by another member. Fingers were pointed in Temple's direction but it soon became clear the culprit was TTT who folded under questioning on what his dish actually was - a slow and suspicious response of 'Errr, chicken nawaab?!' left no doubts. Nice try Tony. Still Listep had an empty bowl nonetheless and had the look of a cat that got the cream……y dish.

There was no mistaking Broady's order, with a super tri-meat-curry bonanza placed in front of a very happy man. And with memories of 'two mains' Broady still lingering from Reds, there was no doubt an empty tri-dish would be left at the end of play. Unfortunately, as a hunger-bitten man my concentration in note taking dipped enough to omit what mains were actually consumed - but since all members were more than satisfied with the quality of food, I'm sure all dishes ordered at Nawaab will be thoroughly enjoyed.

Coming in at a hefty £230, Nawaab's certainly isn't cheap - but perhaps you get what you pay for springs to mind in terms of quality of food. Although having to ask for your own mints only cements that they do need to tighten up the service belt a great deal to truly make it one of Leeds' best curry houses. Gas factor used the element of surprise for the group the next day, like a bad-gut ninja, as early positive reports were then slashed by some unpleasantness in the afternoon. All in all, a hugely entertaining evening with some lovely food but poor service.

See you in December for the festive club with all the trimmings.

Cheers

Danny

PS Check out the super slo-mo action from the Ping-Pong and mindless tomfoolery at the end of play

Hasan's - Kirkstall Road, Leeds (Sept 2014)

As one of Leeds' iconic landmarks went up in flames this week, another arose from the ashes - it was the return of the Curry Club bowling extravaganza! The traditional visit to Kirkstall Road, Leeds, for Matty's instalment always instils some competition into the club, as members take to the lanes, arcade and dartboard for some pre-curry entertainment. As what seems to be the norm for all bowling alleys across the country, we hit technical difficulties in our lane before we've even started to input our names. With no resolution in sight, the kind lady takes down our names to input manually in the back office, but with her undiagnosed hearing problems the results include a Jonny, two Liam's and roughly four Danny's. Pseudonym's acquired, the bowling commences and it's a ferocious start. A few frames in and it's anyone's game….apart from TTT's, who almost hurls himself down the lane when not releasing the ball after his Wasim Akram style run up. The 'Medium Blue' ball began to favour certain bowlers as Temps, Gled, Scott and Grimes started to move away from the field with some big scores. Tight as gnat's chuff, the bowling came to a final frame showdown between Gled and Scott (the birthday boy). The pressure cooker was spiced with jive from the fellow club members as Gled bowls first and can't stand the heat, leaving Scott to finish with aplomb, striking home and taking the prize with a score of 139.

On to shoot some 'hoops' at the basketball machine in the arcade and TTT again showed no skills here - perhaps confused there was no holes in these balls for his fingers. Some interesting techniques were on display, with Gled's leaning over slam dunk against some netball double handers. In the end Danny O took home the high score in the round, with a respectable 47 baskets, only for his new club record to be eclipsed by Matty's whopping 73 on his 2nd attempt. New point guard for the Detroit Pistons? Finishing our beverages, we took to the other machines in the arcade before moving on, with Vinny and Listep taking on some 3D Zombies, some Mario Kart action for Danny, Grimes and Broady - who also wasn't too happy that his jackpot win on a bandit was paid out in tokens. It's not Vegas but curse the arcade anyway!

On to the Cardigan Arms to finish off with a pint and some darts, and Matty's introduction to the game of 'Halves' was reminiscent of a classic Saturday night game show - "If you don’t hit an odd, your score gets?......." "HALVED!" After failing to get the eastern European waitress to turn on the spot lights, the 'romantic' moody setting of the board led to some questionable scores. But the dim light also allowed for some schoolboy tomfoolery, with some fine defacing of the pub floor. What started out as a marker for the oche,

ended up as a childish masterpiece. Danny O'Victorious took the darts crown and it was finally time to move on next door for the curry at Hasan's.

Hasan's - Kirkstall Road, Leeds.

Expectations were high in the club thanks to the memories from our last visit. Seated in the window, the poppadoms were brought to us without the need for asking. Unfortunately, all were underwhelmed by the pickle tray, which only contained a solitary Raita sauce. Beers all round, the mixed starters were ordered by the host and then it was on to the mains, with the deliciously sounding Chicken Keema Aloo Balti ordered by a few. Other dishes included a Chicken Tikka Massala, a Hasan Special (all the meats, kindly explained by our waiter), Fish & Spinach Balti and a Lamb Bihari. With a little wait for the starters to arrive, conversation was flowing, pondering on how the people of Albert Square in Eastenders can afford to live in a £400k London Victorian townhouse on road sweeper, laundrette and market tradesman salaries. It did lead to an appreciation for Michelle Gayle though which was a plus. I've no idea how this led to Matty admitting he'd enjoy 'relations' with American sprinter Flo Jo, but I thought it was worthy of note merely down to the comment on some distance finger work from the former athlete.

Starters ahoy, we all enjoy a mixture of meat and fish platters, with the latter proving a tastier option out of the two but nothing ground breaking. A few visits to the toilet in between courses to see the urinal with a lid (odd) and the mains arrive, accompanied by a ginormous family naan. Large portions (ooooh) are served and presented well, and again the mains are tasty enough to trigger the fond memories of our last visit - although the 'on the bone' dishes are somewhat unusual and therefore an acquired taste. Happy diners made for some great banter, with the discussion on farting in front of girlfriends a particular highlight. Two camps were clear, one for the gentlemen who held in their gases and emptied in strategic toilet visits, and those who are happy to 'let rip' and claim the ultimate prize of reducing their spouses to tears - which Broady was already proud to have achieved. Empty dishes are always a good sign and there were plenty of those at the end of our dining experience, although we did witness some rare bagging up (no diggity) from birthday boy Scott. Perhaps he was saving room for his surprise birthday dessert, a delicious sticky toffee pudding and cream which most of us tucked into gleefully. As Matty paid the bill (a reasonable £189 for 10 diners), there was still time for the question if any members ever attempted the 'no pants dance' with their partners after a club, which was 100% negative apart from TTT who revealed he rubbed one out once (which considering its only his 2nd club meant this was our last outing - nice).

No reports on whether TTT made it two for two, but plenty of horrifying tales in the bowel department unfortunately. Members have been accused of smelling like they've had a number 2, physical abuse for ghastly emissions, five unpleasant trips to the lavatory before 9am and a recommendation to seek medical advice for internal damage. Gas factor it seems is the only thing to let down Hasan's, other than the need for a better pickle tray.

The next time I write to you I will be a married man, which will make no difference whatsoever.

Cheers

Danny

The Jungle Tandoor, Singapore (Sept 14)

I like to think that we at curry club are an erudite and refined bunch and we’d think nothing of crossing political, social and cultural divides to bring you our take on curries sampled from lands afar. And it was with this ethos firmly embedded in our hearts and minds that a break-away faction of the club headed East, far-East, in search of the curried Holy Grail.

And where else better to go than India? Why Singapore of course. The highly urbanised city state island of Singapore is home to more than 5million residents and a Universal Studios theme park. Of these 5million residents, some 42% are immigrant workers. Of this 42%, a lot are Indian. Imagine our surprise then to find that the Indian population of Singapore predominantly live in an area called Little India. Just like the Little London area in Leeds is home to a plethora of Cockneys and Pearly Kings and Queens eating jellied eels on red buses, singing ‘The Lambeth Walk’. I digress.

On a warm and humid Tuesday evening, we took the MRT (underground) and travelled the relatively short distance from our central Singapore base to the Little India suburb. To say it’s like Bradford on speed would be an outright lie. It isn’t. Bradford is a sh!thole. An absolute filth pit. A wretched hive of scum and villainy.

As we ascended the steps of the Little India MRT (underground) station, we were greeted by a street. It had a pavement abutting a road, which allowed motor vehicles to travel onwards to their intended destination. Pedestrians generally restricted themselves to the pavement areas where they could do the same. 

A home away from home

We took a stroll around the bustling streets and markets and came across a corner shop called ‘Leeds Mart’. I interpreted this as a sign that although my fellow curry club comrades could not be with me in person, they were with me in spirit…in the form of a mini-mart. I think my excitement at uncovering the Leeds Mart was lost on the shop’s proprietor. He rejected my requests to have a photo with him in front of his establishment as I was not willing to make a purchase from him. I took the picture anyway and made a hasty retreat with the shop owner’s dulcet Yorkshire-Singaporean tones ringing in our ears shaking his fist as we descended into the night air.

The Jungle Tandoor, Little India, Singapore.

We eventually happened upon The Jungle Tandoor. And what a fine first impression the establishment made. The exterior was adorned with a fake fibre-glass jungle scene, complete with fake fibre-glass trees, vines and stalking tiger (there was no hidden dragon). We announced to the guy on the door that we would require their finest outdoor table and he promptly sat us down. We quickly came to realise the error of our ways when the daily bin collection pulled up alongside our table to empty 24 hours-worth of festering food and refuse from the nearby bin stores. Other interesting vistas from their ‘finest’ table included a view of the Woodland Ganja store. No points for guessing what was traded in this outlet.

Jungle fever

We enjoyed the obligatory poppadum’s and pickle tray, washed down with an ice cold Tiger beer each. For mains we ordered saagala mutton | ghost mutton | a side order of peanut paneer kebabs | and sundries comprising rotis and vegetable pilau rice. Although advertised as ‘medium’ the respective currys were both well spiced and each had a considerable kick. The lamb was tender and plentiful. The portions in general were also bountiful and Matty would have had a proverbial bagging-up field day with the left-overs.

Together with another pair of Tiger beers, the bill came to a not unreasonable (S)$75. And being quite the philanthropist, I’m embarrassed to say that I also left a pretty impressive and generous tip.

Once the Tiger beer had taken its toll on my bladder, I ventured inside to sample the resplendent interior, which mirrored the fibre-glass exterior ‘jungle-themed’ design. The mixed-sex WC left a little to be desired, which was missing a flush and comprised a hosepipe contraption connected to a water butt. Although tempted, I was not about to attempt to understand its workings and reluctantly left my deposit for someone else to dispose of.

With a heavy sigh, we made the short walk back to the MRT (underground) station and bound for bed reflecting on a bloody lovely feed, good service, great company and conversation.

It’s pretty remarkable how Curry Club allows us to be taken to all corners of the globe not only to sample great and different curries but also experience the hospitality, cultures and lives of our international friends and neighbours. I believe the next instalment of the Club, takes us to Kirkstall Road bowling alley. Until then…

Richard 'Rick Listep' Lister

Food – 85%

Service – 75%

Night – 90%

Gas – 15%