CityLife

Review: EastzEast

EastzEast style

NOT every budget hotel has a major-domo in full Punjabi apparel on the pavement outside. We did a double-take, especially at his ceremonial headgear, as our car sped past along the quieter end of Princess Street. Now, the ibis is an exotic bird, but the hotel chain named after it is definitely functional. Not so EastzEast (shame it's such a naff name), the stylish Punjabi restaurant (with sisters in Bradford and Leeds) subletting from Ibis and providing the colourful door staff.

It's not just the imaginative lighting, brown leather chairs, black tables with matching serviettes and floor-to-ceiling glass-encased waterfall that set it apart from the Rusholme archetype. It's closer in spirit to Shimla Pinks, its only serious rival for cool city centre curry house, but more intimate and better value, offering `family-style' halal Punjabi cooking.

That was the draw for Bandit Queen (the nurse's uniform was at the dry cleaner's) and myself.

Over pappadums and a tray of eight mixed pickles, each pickle, chutney and dip innovatively identified by a printed place mat under each bowl (the whole a bargain £2.95), Bandit Queen, for whom the north west frontier is a second home, sorted out my wobbly geography. Pay attention, you may be tested later. The partition in 1947 divided the Punjab between India and Pakistan (which gained Lahore), forcing millions of Punjabi Hindus to flee to Delhi, thus spreading their cuisine.

The aloo paratha, among our starters was typically Punjabi, she told me, fresh mashed potatoes stuffed into a griddle bread. It and the Punjabi chaat felt like we were eating home-cooked beach food - the chaat a delicious mix of chick peas with tamarind sauce, fresh yoghurt and onions.

We also shared a plate of grilled king prawns marinated in olive oil and lemon juice and some char-grilled lamb, the whole array coming in at under £13. Wine was less satisfying. The list looked enterprising for an Indian restaurant (by the way, NEVER order the Indian wine, please), but our first two chosen bottles weren't available and the red we settled on, a supposed Beaujolais-like Kleine Zalze Gamay from South Africa, was a thin, soupy ordeal. Fortunately, it was only £11.45.

Bandit commanded the mains with the imperiousness only years of up country banditry in Uttar Pradesh can instil. As a concession to my love affair with Indian vegetarian food, she ordered me Karahi Paneer Shai. The cubes of Indian soft cheese came in a potently aromatic broth of tomatoes, mustard seed and cream of cashew nuts. It cost £8.80 but was worth every penny, as was the Karhai Dal, for £5.50 - sublimely simple split peas with garlic, ginger and tomatoes.

The Karahi chicken and bindhi (£8.95) married some succulent breast with some pleasingly unstringy okra, but pick of the mains was EastzEast's trademark Balti Seafood dish which enmeshed prawns, white fish and squid in a distinctive sauce that transcended the fennel, coconut and coriander at its core.

Most remarkable aspect of the whole evening was the strange rack on which our naans were hung. It was a bit like a mug tree, but in metal, so the poor griddle breads looked hung out for torture. And it made them cool too quickly. Bizarre.

I'm as suspicious of Indian desserts as of its wine, so that was it, after one of the most satisfying Indian feasts I've had in Manchester. A world away from complacent, dayglo Rusholme. Bandit Queen aims to kidnap the chef and take him back to her mountain hideaway.

EastzEast, Ibis Hotel, Princess Street, city centre. Tel: 0161 244 5353.