I have a rule, not often tested, where I won’t go to two restaurants in one day. It is mainly a rule based on financial prudence, but yesterday when I broke the rule other things became apparent. You eat out twice in one day it stops being special, and one of the restaurants will always come off worse. And yesterday really did throw up two polar opposites.


My friend Julie has a six month old child and had arranged to meet me for lunch. When she turned up, she also had a friend with her. With her seven month old child. And so I set about trying to find a restaurant at 1:30pm which could accommodate me, the ladies and two pushchairs.

Enter Busaba. We did. We were a bit unsure, but the had nice high side tables which the pushchairs fitted under perfectly. Staff were attentive, cooing over the kids and made the entire thing absolutely hassle free. As if to sense the good vibes, the kids barely cried and the food was, as usual, fresh and tasty. Left feeling great.


I was drunk. I was going home. I have some super rich cream of celery soup there. But my companions wanted to go for a curry, and they said there was a really good one around the corner. I should have twigged from the moment the Indian Restaurant was named Indian Restaurant that it might not be the finest exploiter of the sub-continents foods.

Oh and a more bog standard excuse for the old style Indian you could not find. Undercooked onions, cubes of frozen and defrosted “meat”, a sauce with hints of flavour to tantalise you that they had been surgically removed. All in all, a greasy, sloppy meal of nothing. When I slapped my tenner on the table it was like ripping it into small pieces of paper – without the fun of ripping paper. If you are ever in The Cardinal and the curry whim takes you, don’t go around the corner to Indian Restaurant.

And so I am following my rules from now on. Just one restaurant a day please.