Review: Tandoori Garden, Keynsham

And so it came to pass that we ended up in Keynsham. Not, you understand, “ended up” as in that “end of the line”/”what the hell are we doing here?” kinda way; more, just, well, we were meandering back from an early evening tour of various branches of Lidl (long story), and we were suddenly starving, and we were probably too late to make last orders in any of our favourite Bath pitstops, and Keynsham was just suddenly… there.

It being a gloomy Wednesday evening’n’all, the High Street was quiet. It seemed, y’know, nice, though; a handful of little indie shops punctuating the familiar high street chains and franchises, lots of apparently quite recent cycle lanes and planted pots doing their thing to add polish, and colour. There were a handful of initially promising little eateries scattered hither and thither too: a canteen-style Chinese restaurant with a really promising menu and a big sign inviting us to ‘Eat In’… but apparently the sign needed updating, and there was only takeaway available. A couple of blocks up the road, a cottage-y style traditional Indian restaurant looked inviting… but the despondent Deliveroo guy slumped across a sofa by the otherwise deserted bar clearly wasn’t going to meet’n’greet us any time soon and, given that we couldn’t see past the bar into the restaurant itself, the initial ‘inviting’ vibe dissipated fast. Three strikes and you’re out, Keynsham!

But luck would have it that we’d parked the car right outside the Tandoori Garden – a smart, brightly-lit affair promising ‘Classic Indian and Bangladeshi Cuisine’ – which just goes to prove that sometimes you’ve been led straight to the place you were looking for before you started going off in search of something else… and as it turned out, we’d happened across the place where the Keynsham locals go when Keynsham High Street is quiet.

As we were ushered to a lovely little table for two offering views across the street to the rather charming Polkadot gift shop I did my usual recce of fellow diners: several well-behaved blokey get-togethers, the like of which are pretty much always settled in any given high street curry house across the land on any given evening; a couple of loved-up couples; two very smart ladies, no doubt making very smart conversation – all in all, a nice mix, making for a lively atmosphere… and a menu that followed suit.

As you might expect, all the Indian/Bangladeshi fave raves are all present and correct here, from bhajis and samosas to bhunas, tikkas, jalfrezis, kormas, vindaloos, et al, with a Tandoori Naga boasting a 1.5m SHU rating (“a favourite with Keynsham Rugby Club”, apparently), a dish rather randomly flagged up as “Judy’s favourite!”, a Chicken Tikka flambéed with Sambuca and Amma’s Homemade Bengali Curry (pre-order only and, at £24.95, almost twice the price of most of the other dishes on the menu) along the way; ooh, interesting!

But it was the sweet chilli scallops on the starter selection that grabbed our attention from the off, so we teamed them up with a Prawn Puri to get the Tandoori Garden party started. Scallops: plump, juicy, perfectly pan-fried, and bathed in a sticky, sour/sweet sauce that, despite its big personality, didn’t overwhelm our delicate seafood superstars. Prawn Puri: rich, tangy, garlic and ginger-laden masala sauce; sweet, tender prawns; crisp, buttery puri – as an amateur connoisseur of Prawn Puri perfection, I can confidently state that this one deserved a gold star.

I dived into prawns again for my main course – a King Prawn Palak (think, a subtler, lighter version of a classic spinach/garlic-laden sagwala) – and tasted enough of the Special Mixed Balti on the other side of the table to be reassured that it was indeed a rather special bucket of enticingly-spiced comfort. Crikey! We’d really lucked in, hadn’t we?

With papadoms, rice, breads, wine and beer our bill came in at around £90 including service, my only quibble being that the price of necessary side dishes such as rice seem quite high in relation to the main courses (and at £4, that was definitely a pricey paratha, yes?). But had we forgone starters (which we could easily have done, as portions go large here) and gone glass-by-glass rather than bottle-by-bottle on the wine/beer front, we could have easily knocked at least £30 off that final tally, putting us firmly into affordable midweek cheer-up territory – and bear in mind that in terms of quality, vibe and “welcome to the neighbourhood” warmth of the overall experience, you really do get what you pay for here.

So: would we return to Keynsham High Street’sTandoori Garden to find out exactly what makes Amma’s Homemade Curry so special? There’s a very high probability that we will, taking a friend of ours who’s always willing to climb the Scoville Scale with us. Will any of us brave that Sambuca-flambéed Tikka, though? Unlikely; I’m happy to leave that dish to the locals.

The Scallop Shell: “super-fresh, super-accessible dishes focus on the sheer joy of well-priced, cleanly presented, responsibly sourced fish and seafood… and no catches.”

It’s a typical Tweet: ‘The grilled seafood plate to share has been flying out! Skate wing, sea bass, gurnard, mussels, scallops, white prawns, day boat squid, courgette salad, salsa verde and fresh cut chips… come and get it!’

And suddenly, you’re transported to a seafood shack on the Dorset coast, or one of those high-end destination diners in Cornwall, or a harbourside restaurant in Marseille. Except you’re not; you’re destined for The Scallop Shell, the funky, vibrant deep sea diner on an erstwhile mundane thoroughfare in Bath (Monmouth Street, to be precise) where all the cooking action goes on in a lively open kitchen behind an ice-filled bath tub and, on the upper floor, a fairly light lit, stone walled terrace off the banquette booth-lined contempo-cosy dining room (complete with smart little bar) further endorses the feeling that you’ve found both food and mood nirvana.

The Scallop Shell (est. 2015) is the brainchild of Garry Rosser: a chef whose passion and enthusiasm for seafood knows no bounds. Garry’s super-fresh, super-accessible dishes focus on the sheer joy of well-priced, cleanly presented, responsibly sourced fish and seafood… and no catches. Want to ask Garry (or a member of his family; both TSS and little takeaway sister venture The Oyster Shell on Moorland Road are family businesses in the truest sense of the words) more about what he does so well? He can often be found beyond the pass or even front of house, and is always only ever too happy to chat, and both he and his chefs have shared many a fish cooking tip with me on many occasions. Anyway…

The other day, there were braised Cornish spider crab legs with chilli, garlic and coriander trending on the Scallop Shell’s social media timelines. Not so long ago, fish stew with croutons and garlic aioli were on the Specials board; depending on the season, there might be rock oysters, or wild white prawns, or rope-grown mussels on the menu. There’s usually Enderby smoked salmon somewhere on the line-up, and of course cod, hake, monkfish, sole skate and more all make regular appearances.

Last time we visited, we were treated to a sneak preview of utterly divine Haddock Croquettes that hadn’t quite yet made the official menu: luxurious, smoked haddock-infused Béchamel encased in crispy, crunchy jackets, each little barrel of delight gone in two bites but destined to live long in the memory. We shared a Sea Bass fillet accompanied by an extremely moreish salsa-type affair too, and a classic, old school prawn cocktail complete with a soft boiled egg too, at which point we agreed that, had we stopped right there, we’d enjoyed an elegantly sufficient supper… but we were there to push the boat out.

We could have further upped the ‘elegant’ ante and ordered three more starters, to share (as you might expect, the scallops served here are always, always reliable perfect). We could have had good old cod and chips (needless to say, the many cod and chip suppers I’ve had here have never been bettered), or a smoked salmon fishcake, or even a Gloucester Old Spot pork chop (yes, really). But our date night catch of the day was whole Brill for two, served in all its slightly sweet, meaty, clean, brilliant brilliance, accompanied by the kind of fat, fresh chips that even the most gastro of gastropubs (by the way, do people still use the word ‘gastropub’?) would have you believe have been consigned to the file marked ‘Bygone Era’, scattered hither and thither with capers, and fresh parsley, and little pools of its own juices; to call it all a mere ‘good eat’ would nowhere near have done our fabulous feast justice.

And after all that, we tossed a coin that could have led to Sticky Toffee Pudding but landed on the side of Chocolate Mousse with Clotted Cream Ice Cream instead… because hey, when you’ve been for a deep-sea dive, you’ve earned your pud, yes?

Hello, and welcome to my very first post for The Prandial Playground, the former Pig Guide’s brand new home.

Yes, it’s been a long time coming! And yes, it’s still very much a work in progress, so there’ll be lots of tweaking to digest as the days, weeks and months roll along. But I firmly uphold the opinion that diamonds in the rough have much more value than even the most highly-polished fakes… so here I am, in my ramshackle, unpolished state.

It’s my aim to use this website to promote all that’s good about Bath’s independent food scene at a time when our hospitality industry need it the most, free of the kind of ‘advertorial’ and ‘sponsored’ commercial copy that increasingly dominates food-related sites, and instead laden with honest, genuine reviews, news and opinions about the food scene in the city I know and love. Coming soon: a brand new review of much-loved fave rave The Scallop Shell, a Moorfields revisit, fresh takes on both Yak Yeti Yak and Chez Dominique, a catch up on all the exciting pipeline plans from The Grapes/Budō Bā’s imminent unveiling on Argyle Street and my thoughts on the brand new branch of Pieminister (Westgate Street). Phew!

But where does the ‘… and Beyond’ part of the new name fit in to that remit? Well, have words, have thoughts, have opinions – will travel! Liverpool (my second home) is a regular pit-stop, and I’m eagerly anticipating making reservations to finally meet superchef Porky Askew at his fabulous Art School, plus dinners at both Antonio’s in Knowsley Village and Lu Ban in the not-too-distant future. Who knows where else my travels may take me? You will, when I get there!

For now, thank you for reading my very first PP post. Got something to say? Tweet me @ThePigGuide (ah, I couldn’t let the name go completely, could I?) or drop me a line; after all, I’m all yours!