Think of this next post as purely for my benefit, enabling me to refer you to the exemplar curry cafe whenever the mood takes me.
The Holts sunk, assorted Southworths and Mudgies headed for the Marble Arch, a pub of some repute I believe.
I set off for Rochdale. Not on foot.
Just like George Michael sang in 1986, I took a different corner and ended up here:
An easy mistake.
Why does your tummy always rumble when you walk past a curry cafe?
It was a choice of rag pudding and turps in an hour in the ‘Dale, or Rice’n’Three right now.
I’ve been coming here for 25 years on and off since Manchester’s CAMRA branches added a curry section to their guide to the best places to drink Drabs in Mancly.
But even I would never claim this is the best food in town, just a warm and healthy bargain in a scary alley.
My lad has been regaling me with tales of it being “better than ever“, and I reckon there is more meat than I remember. Is this gentrification?
£6.50 for a massive plate of spinach, dhal and beef.
£6.50 won’t buy you a half of milkshake turnip sour in the Northern Quarter these days, as Matt also knows.
Only one thing could dampen my euphoria at falling in love with This & That. A faint memory of something retiredmartin once wrote about never drinking beer after curry.