The city-eating team is divided into two camps. One half would happily exist on a diet of foie gras, animal bits and Merlot; while the other would gladly crawl over hot coals for a decent dosa. It was the latter that decided it was about time we tried Quilon - one of London’s five Michelin starred Indian restaurants but the only one specialising in South Indian coastal cuisine. A quick look at Chowhound yielded rave reviews and the menu promised seafood, appams and thalis. We were sold.
Nestled beneath the Crowne Plaza hotel, the dining room has understandably taken on a breakfast-buffet air in spite of the jungle murals. It’s comfortably low-key, without any of the Michelin pomposity you might expect, and the staff are a real joy. From the ‘fruity’ section of the extensive wine list, we chose a Sauvignon Blanc from the Grover Vineyards near Bangalore. The subtle fruitiness didn’t disappoint and the crisp acidity worked well with the feast that followed. Lightly spiced pre-lunch 'Qojitos' and warm poppadoms with two excellent chutneys took the edge off the long wait between arrival and starters.
The mini masala dosa - a crisp cone made from rice and lentil batter - was filled with the traditional aromatic potatoes and served with hot sambhar made from lentils and a complex blend of roasted spices. It was tasty and adorable - a more refined version of the huge dosas served up across Southern India. Our other starter, a delicate fillet of tilapia, was sadly overwhelmed by its curry leaf crust. The ginger and tamarind chutney had been replaced by a blob of ginger puree which didn’t bring much to the party.
Thankfully, all was forgiven when a glass of hot rasam arrived before our mains. We learnt to make this thin tomato and lentil soup at The Vegetarian Cookery School in Bath earlier this year but Quilon’s version blew ours out of the water. It was intense, completely smooth (ideal for sipping) and warmed up with plenty of ginger and tamarind, like a Bloody Mary via Bangalore.
To put the kitchen to the test, we both ordered thalis. These are perfect if you want to taste a little bit of everything or, like us, you are just greedy. Both the ‘Palm fringed’ (vegetarian) and the ‘Catamaran’ (non-veg) thalis include fragrant pilau rice; creamy yoghurt made on-site and studded with pomegranate seeds; light, flaky parathas; and - joy of joys - appams. These are paper-thin rice-flour pancakes made fresh to order at a cooking station in the dining room - perfect for mopping up sauces.
Maybe we missed out by not ordering one of the seafood mains but it certainly didn’t feel like it. The vegetable dishes were a triumph with the spicy channa masala and that flavoursome sambhar among the best of their kind. A dish of cauliflower and potatoes spiked with fenugreek and roasted spices was simple but delicious; spinach with fresh coconut and mustard seeds was … fine; and the avial - a traditional South Indian dish of vegetables cooked with coconut - was mild but had an impressive depth of flavour. Across the table, a rich and fiery chicken dish was reluctantly shared while a perfectly cooked tilapia fillet was demolished in seconds. There wasn’t a single disappointing dish and the small individual portions were a great way to see what the kitchen had to offer.
To our mutual surprise and shame, we couldn’t manage dessert but were pleased to see to see authentic sweets like jackfruit pudding and the Goan specialities bibinca and dodhol on the menu.
But there is still some trouble in paradise. The flavours are spot on but it’s all very polite, maybe a bit too refined. While Chef Sriram Aylur isn’t shy with the spicing, his dishes (and his prices) are clearly aimed at diners unconcerned with authenticity. That said, the dining room was busy for a Monday lunchtime and the mixed crowd of business lunchers and hotel guests clearly had no complaints. The fixed priced lunch is great value at £22, so you can always try that before committing to the steep evening prices.
This is smart South Indian food your parents and your boss would love, but hungry brothers and boyfriends might be happier chewing on lamb chops at Tayyabs.
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