At the weekend, I made the grand error of travelling to Southport to eat my tea. Southport is a bit of a stinker. It reminds me of Trafford Park; it lacks grace and elegance; it's full of coffin dodgers; and it lacks a decent restaurant. It does have an extraordinarily long pier but who cares? I suppose if it were shorter, Southport would have a higher suicide rate.
The restaurant I visited was Indian. I wish I could remember its name for it would make this post more useful. Needless to say, and I run a very grave risk of repeating myself here, it's in Southport so it's not very good. It doesn't matter what it's called. There was nothing remarkable about the menu. There was only the familiar: Jalfrezi; bhuna; madras; vindaloo. Who wants those? In Manchester, a bog standard curry can be obtained every three yards. What I need is a specials' menu. Something different to keep me interested. The southport Indian had just one special. One! And it was made from bananas! And it was mild! A curry for a ninety year old. Bloody hell Southport.
I ended up with a Jalfrezi; my girlfriend a bhuna. They were identical. More and more Indian restaurants are doing this. You think they'd realise that when two people are sat next to each other and they have the following conversation:
"Hey, would you like to try my curry?"
"Ooh! Yes please."
those two people would notice the similarities between the two dishes. No? So, in reality, the Southport Indian had two items on its menu: A curry and some banana slop.