[Disclosure: I was invited for a complimentary meal at Warwick Spice to try their food]
Like most Brits of my generation, going for a curry occupies a particular place in my heart. As a kid growing up in Redditch, just south of Birmingham, a trip to the Akash on Unicorn Hill was a proper treat. It was exciting enough sitting in the takeaway waiting area dipping into what seemed like an endless bowl of Bombay Mix, then getting those foil packages home and extracting the cardboard lids and all their glorious mess to find the curry inside. But eating in was a whole other matter. Poppadoms and dips. The smell of curry everywhere. Traditional music in the background and the gaudy decor so popular with the Indian restaurants of the 80s and 90s.
It was the start of a love affair that has punctuated most milestones in my life. First dates, because obviously a curry is a great option when you live near Birmingham. Regular takeaways. Family occasions. Nights out – pre or post. University memories of the cheapest curry and naan on the way home from another messy night – including the one where the men in the takeaway kindly bandaged up my bleeding leg from a tumble because I was in there that often.
I’m not alone. Ask most people about their number one choice curry house or Indian restaurant and they’ll have one. We find our favourites and we stick to them. Yes, we might find a new favourite if things change, but in small towns few of us are fickle when it comes to going for a curry, rejecting flitting from place to place in favour of going to our tried-and-tested fave.
Which probably explains why on December 28th – despite being slap-bang in the middle of the period of time when everyone’s eating leftover roast turkey, sausage rolls, cheese boards and all the festive food – Warwick Spice on Smith Street in Warwick was absolutely packed. It was a first visit for me, having been invited to celebrate their 23 years in the town, but clearly not for some people, who were welcomed like old friends and who no doubt have the same stories and memories of this as their favourite place as I do for some of mine.
In a world where so many restaurants opt for bouji interiors, flower walls and Instagrammable decor, the traditional curry house feel is a bit like a comforting hug for someone who grew up eating in places similar to this. Yes, it’s clean, and somewhat more modern than the Akash was when I was a kid, but it’s retained the classic hallmarks of the Indian or Bangladeshi restaurants that won us over in the Midlands long before people in some cities further south started waxing lyrical about the ground-breaking Indian cuisine they were being introduced to.
The aim here isn’t to be ground-breaking, or to do anything new or crazy with what is a tried and tested favourite among Brits – even in Warwick where they might be a bit more posh than us in Rugby or Redditch. It’s to give people what they want. And if that’s all the classic curries, the chance to have a cheesy naan, and a few creations of their own based on dishes from the owners’ home region, then so be it.
On top of that, while you may not have realised that you needed a live sitar player to entertain you while you dig into your favourite curry, after visiting Warwick Spice you’ll realise that you do. Because who doesn’t want to scoop up their korma as they hear the familiar theme tune to Match of the Day being picked out on a classic Indian instrument.
The menu, as you’d expect, is fairly predictable. And I say that with no negativity in the slightest. Because what is an old-school curry house if not the comforting place you can find all the classics from kormas and pasandas to vindaloos, with all the favourites in between. There are a few interesting house specials for those who want to step away from the predictable choices, and overall there’s plenty to choose from.
After the obligatory poppadoms (you can’t help yourself can you?), we kick off with two starters that these photos definitely don’t do justice to. A samosa whose pastry is plenty crispy, giving way to fragrant, nicely-spiced mat inside. Equally tasty is a ‘spice roll’ – think an Indian-version of a fajita I guess. Spiced chicken and mushroom wrapped up in a chappati. Tasty, not too heavy or greasy, and a nice opener. It’s simple, well-flavoured food with no fuss and we’re both here for it.
For main my friend goes for a Rizala – a minty number that promises to go well with lamb. She follows the instructions and unsurprisingly it’s a winning combination. The lamb is tender, the mint coming through and somehow gelling with the spice rather than resembling a lamb roast dinner fighting a curry as I’d feared.
It’s good, but not as good as the dish I’ve ordered. Hussain’s chicken, a special created by Warwick Spice – but yet again let down by my shoddy photography – is exactly what I’m after on the night. I’m usually a chicken tikka or tandoori girl, but tonight I want a bit of sauce and a lot of spice. This has it aplenty – and not the awful dried chilli spice, but the freshness of green chilli. It’s great, and one I’d drive back to Warwick for, even if it means cheating on my favourite local curry house (Spice Lounge in Rugby in case you wondered, but that’s one for another day).
Mine comes with pilau rice – it’s good, but I don’t think I’ve ever had bad rice in an Indian restaurant – but I give my pal the choice of a second bread or rice and she opts for cheesy naan. Not my usual order by any stretch of the imagination but it’s surprisingly great in all the ways these things are. Yes a paratha, chapatti or roti, or even a plain naan, might be a bit more authentic, but there’s something about the soft pillowy bread draped in melted cheese that warms my soul, especially when used to scoop up any one of the creamy creations in front of us.
I’m a big fan of a vegetable side dish when it comes to Indian food. They’re a reminder of how when treated right, vegetables really can be glorious, and we spent far too long as Brits doing the exact opposite. Luckily these days we’ve learned our lesson, but I still gravitate towards the veggies on an Indian menu.
Their matar paneer – bascially paneer cheese with peas – is creamier than I’m used to but then I remember that’s because we’ve ordered the mild version. It feels like a different dish, and I miss the fresh hit of chilli I usually get, but this feels like a sexy sibling, creamy and smooth, with a sweet sauce contrasting with the saltiness of the cheese. We get a complimentary side of aloo gobi that’s again nothing I’d ordinarily go for, choosing other veg over the humble potato, but it’s surprisingly good.
The whole meal is to be honest. Is it ground-breakingly, awe-inspiringly, boundary-pushing impressive? No, and it’s not trying to be. This is a local curry house, run by proud people who are keen to give everyone a good time, whether it’s the guy behind us sitting on his own having a full three courses and being treated like royalty, two gals like us having a quiet catch-up, the big family on the other side of the room getting together for a post-Christmas debrief, or the gang of lads who are probably doing the same thing too.
I’m told by some local Warwick bloggers (chris_cooks_em_eats over on Instagram) that Warwick Spice is their go-to for an Indian meal and I can see why. It’s a curry easily as good as any other local Indian restaurant I’ve been to in Warwickshire – and better than a fair few. Plus, along with the food, it’s got a bit of heart, and a sitar player! Not sure we can ask for more.
Given how poor my pictures are – if the words aren’t enough to convince you, check out these…
