Reviewed
12.98

The Taj Mahal is dead! Long live Shimla Pinks!

As a successor to Oxford’s oldest, and the UK’s second oldest, Indian restaurant, two things must be said immediately in Shimla Pinks’ favour. First, it was not their fault that the Taj passed away, greatly mourned though that passing may be; second, in Shimla Pinks, the Taj has a worthy heir to a long tradition, heralding as it does a new generation of Indian cuisine in this country.

You can go one of two ways at Shimla Pinks: downstairs is the colourful festival buffet, offering a cheap, but by no means thrifty exploration of what there is on offer; upstairs, you can go the whole hog, if your wallet can face the challenge (2 courses plus wine is likely to set you back £35 - £50 for two), with an A La Carte menu to make your mouth water. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, promised my bank manager the moon and went upstairs.

This was perhaps a little hedonistic on my part, since the whole idea of the buffet downstairs is that you get exactly the same treatment as you would if you were upstairs. If nothing else though, the atmosphere is very different. Both floors are furnished extremely carefully and sharply. Downstairs is brighter and airier, with more of the bistro feel to it; upstairs is a little heavier, a little more minimal. In both cases, gone are the heavy red plush and gilt furnishings of the Taj - this is a stripped down (literally), high class designer ensemble, right down to the globular wooden salt cellars designed by Bodum of Denmark. My companion thought the table ornament (a concoction of dried botanical novelties) really quite fetching and it certainly struck a bright note in keeping with the rest.

Things did stumble a little when we got upstairs though. If Shimla Pinks is truly to carry off the “revolution” of bringing the high class restaurateur’s approach to Indian cuisine (and that is clearly the aim, eschewing the “curry house” label and aiming at the full dining experience), then it must succeed in all areas. Although we had a reservation, the table was not actually fully laid. Coats appeared, at least to begin with, just to be laid over chairs in the bar area. When we were seated, my companion noted the absence of napkins - and when she asked for some, we received tiny paper ones, with the mumbled apology that they had run out of cloth ones! Not quite what one expects at this level of restaurant! We also had to ask for the bill twice at the end - this is in danger of becoming my regular moan in this column: if the bill appears promptly when requested, then the diner is free to leave when they wish; keeping the diner waiting interminably when they’re ready to go not only exasperates the customer, it also, from a mercenary point of view, damages your tipping prospects!

These however are mere peccadilloes. The food was quite simply the best Indian food I’ve ever eaten. And for the most part the service was fine. The menu is huge - but the poppadoms that kept it company were beautifully fresh and crisp, so browsing was a pleasure. Both dips were varieties of mango chutney, but far more interesting than the usual pale orange industrial glucose concoction. Starters were not only beautiful to look at, but also delicious - and surprisingly large. I’ve come to expect something amounting to half a dozen mouthfuls at this sort of place, tastefully laid out on a huge white plate. This was tastefully laid out on a huge white bowl, but almost as large as a main course. As for the main course, my companion had a paneer (a variation on cottage cheese) and potato dish in a wonderfully velvety tomato sauce, and made quiet moaning noises as she tucked in; when she tried my own dish of hake she was positively ecstatic over it. Meg Ryan eat your heart out. The menu promised this dish would give my palate “a truly savoury awakening”. Too true, O sage, too true. I didn’t want to put it back to sleep at the end.

Upstairs again lurks yet another level of this establishment. For a very modest sum, you can book party rooms here too. As term runs out and Christmas parties beckon, this has to be worth considering. Shimla Pinks has to be experienced at some point, whether by the buffet or the A La Carte. It may not have escaped all the teething problems of running a new and high level restaurant, but food is what it’s about, and the food is the reason to go. Don’t confuse this place with “just another Indian”. If you want a curry on a Friday night, try somewhere else. If you want a delicious meal, try Shimla’s.

JRWP