Good Indian Cheer

As a city for Indian restaurants, Edinburgh traditionally trails behind Glasgow. It is not that there is a lack of places to try;  there are more and more of them. It is just that so many are mediocre. So when Tanjore opened in that fertile stretch of Clerk Street in Newington which also contains the illustrious, well-established Kalpna, all one could do was hope for the best.   

Its credentials certainly looked excellent. The promise of South Indian cooking, properly vegetarian with a minmum of meat dishes, could only be good news.  The presence of a nice, friendly, attentive, knowledgeable proprietress seemed another plus point, and although, at lunchtime, the decor looked a bit par for the course - the place had evidently had previous existences - the beige tiles, the touches of yellow, the soft-grained pictures, the well-placed screens and wall coverings all suggested that by night it would lose its somewhat utilitarian feel and gain a warm, cheerful glow that would enhance the atmosphere. 

With all these potential assets, then, what was there to complain about, apart from the possibility of the food?  Alas, Joanna Blythman, doyenne of Scottish restaurant reviewers, found plenty to irk her when she lunched there soon after it opened. More recently, however, friends of mine, experienced eaters-out, have reported that they like it, and have gone back quite often. It seemed time, clearly, to give it a go.

So today I joined one of my friends to see how we might fare. Joanna Blythman’s big complaint, that the service was insufferably sleepy, had at least been rectified. The three smart young waiters were up to speed, and lively enough to give the place what seemed almost an Italian family bustle - though whether it is actually a family operation I could not tell. 

Main dishes - including large crispy crepes, or dosais, made from fermented lentil batter and including, in my case, a fiery filling with an array of warm dips, one of them temptingly green and minty -  were explained in detail by the owner.  A lush mango lassi  (there are also drinks more astringent)  made up for the absence of wine or beer, though you can bring your own bottle. A squelchy carrot halwa, shot through with nuts, was a pleasing pudding.  

So it seems that some of Joanna’s initial complaints about clumsy cooking have been answered. The place, perhaps, still has some way to go but it is getting there. And the menu is certainly fascinating enough to make you want to return, as I intend to do.                                                                                2 June 2014