Indian restaurant life in Bath, 2012. The Boojon Tandoori on Charles Street was the place to go for a decent midweek curry, the cavernous Rajpoot (the one with the doorman who used to stand, in full Raj regalia, on Pulteney Bridge) represented special occasion exotica and Bath chefs craving a butter chicken on their night off used to flock to the Bengal Brasserie (Milsom Street). Those were the days? Well, kinda… but not really.
Slowly but surely, our tastes and expectations were a-changin’. While the concept of ‘going for a curry’ was as popular as it ever was and ‘Indian’ food topped the takeaway charts over Chinese and even fish and chips across the UK, our understanding of the massive cultural diversity of cuisine originating from the largest subcontinent in the world was gathering momentum; the perfect time, then, for The Mint Room to open its doors.
The Mint Room turned what was ostensibly a breeze block box a stone’s throw away from a garage forecourt into an urbane, subtly glamorous and Very Grown Up alternative to ‘the curry house’ and brought a taste of upper-crust Modern Indian food to the erstwhile barren landscape of the Lower Bristol Road. Heck, it even featured a rooftop cocktail bar and terrace offering cityscape views that felt closer to uptown NY rather than downtown BA2; suddenly, Bath’s Indian restaurant scene was, in the best possible way, all shook up.
12 years on, and The Mint Room hasn’t rested on its laurels. A host of dinner events hosted by legendary chef Saurav Nath (Benares; Gymkhana) proved to be the hottest supper club tickets of 2024, and a raft of new menu items that add yet more intrigue and fascination to an already fascinating, intriguing menu have recently landed, to be enjoyed in twinkly-lit, elegant surroundings (grab a plush booth if you can), served to you by friendly, knowledgeable staff who glide rather than bustle you through the whole experience, and supplemented by a wine list that reads like an oenophiles dream.
You could, should you so wish, remain on the familiar path of least resistance and order an onion bhaji followed by a chicken tikka here; I guarantee that both dishes will shake up all previous perceptions of such tried-and-tested, familiar choices at prices that belie the quality on offer. But why would you do that when smoky, slightly bittersweet, tamarind- and mint-laden Karsoori Chicken Tikka (you too can enjoy a taste of Gymkhana, here in Bath) rules the chicken roost?
We tried the Banarasi Aloo Tikki Chaat too: an upmarket spicy potato patty artfully muddled with crispy spinach, wriggly moong dal, smooth-but-crunchy nylon sev (no, not a spelling mistake: super-thin crispy-crunchy noodles made from gram flour. Who knew? Not I, until now!), sweet yoghurt and pomegranate jewels; party ON, in my mouth!
But oh, the Tandoori Dil Salmon! At first menu-description glance, it seemed kinda outta place in a modern Indian oasis: dill, honey, garlic… mustard mayo? Isn’t that more gastropub and less – well, Indian? Not when those big, gleaming fillets have been marinated with roasted red pepper and dustings of cumin and garam masala (am I right, Mint Room kitchen?) before being subjected to the fierce heat of the tandoor for the perfect amount of time to make it crispy on the outside and softly slinky within; indeed, few gastropubs could attempt to scale such dizzy heights. And if tandoor magic’s your thing, you must try, like we did, the Chatpata Chicken Kebab too: robust but tender chicken thighs laden with rich, smoky Kashmiri chillies and pungent caram seed (think, oregano or thyme, perhaps, punching well above their weight).
Did we end there? We could have done – and, probably, should have done. But neither the roar of the Lamb Rarrah Gosht (glazed, tandoori-spiced lamb rump, keema masala, rogan jus – ROGAN JUS!) or the gentle whisper of the Classic Old Delhi Chicken Tikka Masala (chicken, tomatoes, green cardamom, ginger – it’s called ‘classic’ for very good reason) could be ignored… so we gave them our full attention, and didn’t for one moment, on any level, regret our actions.
Whether you mourn, celebrate or remain merely indifferent to the passing of the likes of the Boojon, the Rajpoot and the Bengal Brasserie will depend on your personal experiences of those restaurants at the time (mine, I’m lucky enough to say, were all good). But having The Mint Room on our doorstep is cause for celebration for all; competent, confident and inspirational, this is modern Indian cookery at its very, very best.
The Prandial Playground, Bath and Beyond... 