Open daily for dinner 6.30pm–11.15pm; Sun lunch 12.30pm–3pm
The Real Indian Food Company (RIFC) owns a host of restaurants to suit all sizes of wallet, including the funky casual Indian dining that is Masala Zone. They seem to make a virtue of choosing unusual locations and making them work. The Bayswater branch sits away from all the other restaurants around Whiteleys and the Soho one is nearly hidden by the estate it cowers under. Their location finder is obviously confident of their skills as Masala Grill, their latest creation, stands out like a sore thumb amongst all the furniture shops at the quieter end of the King’s Road.
The previous occupant was also owned by the RIFC; Chutney Mary is moving to St James, so they must be doing alright for themselves. The locals obviously like having a curry house that’s a cut above the average on their doorstep, as the new incumbent was being enthusiastically supported on a Thursday night.
Although it looks boringly like an office from the outside, you’re transported once inside the door. Descending down the stairs, everything is warm brown wood and saffron orange carpets, all smartly lit by chandeliers. We were taken to a kind of conservatory which was seemingly decorated by prayer flags; a tree sat in the middle of all the tables. Chillout music hummed in the background, colourful cushions were scattered around and I almost had to stop myself from sitting cross legged and chanting ‘Ohm’.
Mixed vegetarian bhajis (£6.50) were very delicate Indian tempura—there was even a lightly battered spinach leaf. The accompanying coriander sauce had a discreet kick of chilli and was a good match. Crispy fried squid (£6) were also very dainty, small rings and very tender, a bit like squid popcorn.
Then came a bit of a glitch. We ordered a Riesling but when they opened the bottle we didn’t like it, so asked for something else. Our Britishness took hold—we felt awkward. In any case, the carafe of sauvignon blanc (£18.30) we substituted in was little better but we felt we couldn’t send it back again. If you’re going, ask to taste the wine before you order.
The food, thankfully, held no such problems. I wanted to taste so much on the menu that having a thali (£18) seemed the easiest way to do it and it didn’t let me down, providing a riot of taste sensations. A silky and soup-like prawn curry made with coconut milk was the big winner, but the supporting acts of butter chicken and dahl were similarly irresistible. The waiter insisted we have the lamb chops (£22), which came wearing a dry marinade of garam masala and were beautifully pink under the char. The wife’s 12-hour-cooked lamb curry (£15) was fragrant with cardamom and packed serious heat, but wasn’t as seductive as that long cooking time implied.
As the daylight faded the restaurant chandeliers made everything twinkly and the wood panelling and snatched snippets of conversation about politics made for a rarefied air. This is a smart Chelsea spice odyssey at a decent entrance price, with food certainly more considered than your local Indian. Recommended.
