It’ll come as no surprise to you that I consider myself to be an Amsterdammer through and through. I don’t think you have to have been born in a place to be one of its citizens. I just think you have to love it and feel it to be home. I never had that feeling in London, and yet I had it the instant I stepped out of Amsterdam Centraal station. It was love at first sight.
But one of the few things I miss about my motherland is its curry houses. I used to live in Brixton, which wasn’t the most salubrious neighbourhood in the world, but it was home to one of my favourite restaurants: Khan’s. If you live in London and you’re reading this, I recommend you get yourself over to Brixton Water Lane with a bottle of your favourite tipple (it’s BYOB), and order the prawn puri and the chicken dish that’s full of coriander and mint (I forget the name, but it’s amazing).
However, I’m not the London Foodie; I’m the Amsterdam Foodie. And a friend recommended Mother India to me on the basis that I didn’t have it in my database and that he therefore couldn’t vote for it in my Indian Restaurant of the Month poll that I was running at the time.
The evening I turned up it was fairly deserted, although admittedly it was a Wednesday night and the restaurant is a little off the beaten track. The dated décor might not help pull in the punters either, although the undeniably friendly waiter was clearly trying hard to counteract this effect. Possibly a little too hard.
To start, I had the ‘Mother Mix’, which included Tandoori chicken wings, mini samosas and marinated grilled lamb. They were all good little bites of flavour, though I would have been happy if the mix had included something with some sauce.
Next, I ordered the butter chicken (I thought I’d read good things about it in another review), while my dining buddy had the prawn jalfrezi. I liked his dish better than mine: the prawns were juicy, and the peppers and tomatoes were fresh and mildly hot. The sauce on my chicken, on the other hand, tasted like Campbell’s tomato soup. Seriously. I didn’t get what all the fuss was about.
The curries came with rice, and we ordered a keema naan as extra, which was spicy and buttery. Dinner came to around €50 for two, including a bottle of house wine, and for that price I’m prepared to give it another go. I just won’t be ordering the butter chicken again.
I reported back on my findings to the friend who’d recommended Mother India. While we may disagree on the best Indian restaurant in Amsterdam, we do concur on one thing: when it comes to curry, your best bet is to buy a Sleazyjet ticket and head to the motherland.
