Spice Merchant

You know as soon as you walk through the arched door of the new Indian restaurant, Spice Merchant, in what used to be the Music Academy opposite the Police Station, that you’re in for an interesting experience. Plush burgundy walls, glittering chandeliers, designer chairs and a hotel reception of a take-away area. They haven’t cut any corners.
We sit at the table with the best view of the restaurant. The manager, from Bangladesh, stops for a chat. It’s one of a chain, he says, of five restaurants. The first was in Cookfield. The chefs, he tells us, are from India. There’s a range of styles. The trick is to Anglicise traditional dishes. He wants diners to have a unique experience.
We order a Rioja Crianza from off the list, and a couple of poppadoms, and plot our meal. Goan lamb shank. Zafrani fish grill. Sag paneer. Pilau rice and a naan.
The lamb is spectacular. The meat drops off the bones like clothes from a nymphomaniac: a succulent coriander high. The fish, served with grilled onions, is a good foil. The sag paneer is extra creamy. I need to call for the salt, but what the hell. The main dishes are more solid than we were expecting. A bonus: we hardly touch the rice.
The place fills up as the evening goes on. A party of fifteen sits next to us and orders their bhunas, Madrases, masalas and vindaloos. A group of about eight men, shaped like they eat curry for breakfast, fill the take-out area. You can tell the place is going to be a success. AL