Ed eats

Suruchi
35, Ball Street
Paceville
Tel: 2751 5000

Food: 6/10
Service: 8/10
Value: 6/10
Overall: 6.5/10

We don’t really get a proper winter. I am one of the few to complain about this, mainly because I can handle the cold much better than I can handle heat. When it does get chilly though, I make the best of it by spending even more time confined to my cave than I normally do. After all, no real evil can be planned unless there is a dark and stormy night to create the narrative drive for it. No wicked overlord ever planned world domination on a mild day in May, when birds filled the golden evening glow with angelic song.

So today’s story begins with a cold breeze that threatened the need for a jacket. Perfect for a night in, dipping into my stash of wine and film for entertainment.

I’d spent some time watching a food programme that afternoon and Indian food was very much the subject of it, so I was truly primed for a dinner along those lines. And we know that an Indian takeout goes with a chilly evening like beer goes with bratwurst.

There is more to Indian food than meets the eyes and the tastebuds. It seems to contain a whole lot of ingredients that are associated with making our brains work better and our bodies work more efficiently. If I remember correctly, ginger is meant to improve our memory.

I might need to consume more of it then. Garlic helps our cardiovascular system. Chilli kicks our metabolism into gear. It sounds like the more Indian food I consume, the closer I get to being a member of X-Men. I need to do some more research into this but it surely sounds like food for thought.

Choosing which restaurant to order from was the first dilemma. I thought I’d reward the search engine optimisation capabilities of Indian restaurants in Malta by popping ‘Indian restaurant Malta’ into my good friend Google’s search box and see what pops up.

Up there with the first few results was Suruchi in Paceville. I’d never heard of the place, so I looked through their menu and it sounded pretty much like an Indian restaurant menu should. It also looked like the habit of combining cuisines is quite contagious, so there is a section of North African food and even more familiar Mediterranean dishes.

I was on the phone in two swishes of a ravenous Rottweiler’s tail to place my order. The man who picked up the phone was polite, exceedingly helpful and very patient. He apologised that they wouldn’t deliver but I’d planned to pick up the food anyway, so there would be no problems there. I asked to pick up at a specific time and he assured me this would be no problem.

Parking in Paceville is never easy but I enlisted a driver who would circle the block while I picked up the food. In return, I’d let her taste some of it. All is fair in this game after all.

The restaurant hadn’t yet received its first patrons for the night when I got there so I had the place to myself. The man who greeted me was evidently the same one who answered the phone and was once again very polite and offered a seat and a drink while he retrieved my order. It looked like they hadn’t yet packed it all up, so he vanished into the kitchen to sort it all out for me.

He was out within a minute bearing my food, neatly packed into labelled containers. As he rang up the bill, another young man watched in silence, occasionally nodding his approval.

When the total was done, the young man seemed to come to a decision and told his colleague that I deserved a discount for having driven all the way. Even if I’d done nothing to deserve this, I was very happy to be treated so well. The restaurant looked neat and I’d been served very well. If the food matched all this, I saw myself returning to enjoy the full experience.

Now there are very few instances that see me engage in physical activity that goes beyond a leisurely stroll but having piping hot food in my hands and a trip home spurred me into a brisk walk.

By my standards, that’s training for a triathlon. I was walking quite quickly, carrying food and smelling it. I can’t remember the last time I was performing so many simultaneous physical activities and was certain that anyone who saw me perform this feat was aghast in admiration. They might have seen a man with a keen expression break a sweat at walking pace. It all depends on the viewing angle.

Feeling suitably heroic, I jumped into the getaway vehicle as it came to a stop and almost shouted: “Go, go, go!” in action-movie style but I’d run out of the breath it takes to do this and my stunt double was on holiday somewhere.

Back at the cave, out came all I needed to turn food in foil containers into a meal, on went the music, and out came the cork.

I could probably have bothered to try and interpret the handwriting on the containers, but opening them up was quicker and easier. We started with the baba ghanoush and the hummus, both generous portions and accompanied by warm pitta bread. The baba ghanoush had that lovely smokey flavour of charred aubergine and the hummus a little underseasoned but enjoyable nonetheless.

Onwards we progressed, adding jeera (cumin) rice and naan bread to our dishes before topping them with tandoori king prawns. These were tender and made for a great start to the main dishes, with ginger and a subtle blend of spice keeping our palate fresh, making way for the more hard-hitting dishes. Next up was the beef madras.

The coconut-based sauce was nice and zesty and perhaps a little hotter than I’m used to with a madras. This was a good thing, and we both enjoyed the enthus-iasm of the sauce that was sadly let down by the quality of the meat itself. I wound up avoiding the chunks of stringy beef and simply adding the sauce to the naan.

Finally, I turned to the rogan josh, ordered as hot as they’d make it. It was just hot enough to allow the heady blend of spices to hold their own and hover above the intensity of the chilli.

This time, the meat was just not edible. There was an unpleasant flavour that came through when I bit all the way through the first piece. I tried another just to be certain and once again avoided the lamb altogether, resorting to piling the sauce on to the very decent rice and naan.

I was a little sorry to see the meat go to waste. We’d paid €50 for the meal, so the price isn’t that of an inexpensive takeout. Judging by the effort put into the service, it is a pity for the place to be let down by the quality of the meat they purchase. We’d had enough evidence that the kitchen is a capable one. Quite why they skimped on the core ingredients escapes me.

You can send e-mails about this column to ed.eatson@gmail.com or follow @edeats on Twitter.