Bay Leaf
Baron Hotel, Al Barsha

Almost every man has a local curry house that they will claim is the best on earth - somewhere they will defend no matter what and anywhere else just won’t be the same. And if they move away to a new country they will spend the rest of their lives doomed to find a replacement, like Ahab searching for a culinary white whale.

So I have to declare that this is not, and never will be, the Kennington Tandori in South London.

But the interesting thing is, it seems to be making a stab at attracting those who want something like British-Indian food. Or to put it another way - Indian food for beginners.

The lamb shammi kebab I had to start comprised of balled up lamb that had been minced with dhal, flavoured with spices and herbs and served with mint and coriander chutney.

A little too much like pate in texture for some, I thought they were a fine (if a little dry) way to start. My dining partner’s opener of prawns peri peri was a huge, generous pile of seafood in a spicy, tomatoey sauce that carried a spicy twang.

For mains I went with the chicken do piyaza, which has a different way of spelling itself but only one way of getting it right.

They get it right here, with the chicken stir fried with onions and tomatoes and scented with some fresh cumin and coriander.

It’s not rocket science, but many make it like rocket fuel so it was good to see they spice it right here.

The downside, however, was that the chicken was a bit grey and scrawny.

This is something that really needs to have the white, fluffy chunks of breast - you can’t go throwing in a bit of leg with something like this and expect it to be nearly as good.  

Less-than-great meat aside, everything else was good quality.

The paneer makhani was a solid, moreish bowl of comfort food in a way that cheese-based dishes can be if they’re done well.

The saffron rice was gorgeous; subtly flavoured and cooked in that way where each strand refuses to stick to its neighbour and that’s near impossible to replicate at home. And what with the portions being large, combined with the two naan breads, it was impossible to eat it all.

Unwilling to waste the food, we ended up taking both home in little silver takeout boxes and having it for lunch the next day.

Maybe it was because the spices had had an extra 24 hours to infuse, or maybe it was because we were eating it on our laps in front of the TV, but it tasted better.

There’s a strange thing with certain restaurants (often Indian and Chinese) that when eating there you can’t help feeling that although the food is pretty good, it would be enjoyed a lot more if it was eaten at home, in front of the telly while watching the football, or ‘American Idol’, or something that is more stimulating that the surroundings of the restaurant the food came from.

Harsh, but true.

Unlike other restaurants, the ambience - or lack of - adds little and actually drags down the overall experience.

Bay Leaf’s interior, while not massively off-putting, just looks like any Indian restaurant, from pretty much any city, from any year 1971 onwards. And this isn’t a snobbery thing.

Take Ravi’s for example. The lauded Pakistani restaurant is great to visit, as you spend the evening sat out on the pavement in Satwa, bumping elbows with every nationality and class in the city as you pay next to nothing for excellent food.

Here though, the setting is nothing special, it’s mostly empty and although the service is more than fine, there’s little to recommend other than the food.

If you live in the area then this is a good little place to fall into for curry basics when you get the cravings but it’s hard to recommend this place to someone who lives in, say, Mirdif.

You would feel that a schlep down the Sheikh Zayed Road wouldn’t be worth it with this being your ultimate destination - especially as there are better Indians nearer Mirdif - but if this is near your home then take note, and take a delivery menu the next time you’re passing.