Mother India's Cafe

I am a great believer that some of the best food in the city is available to eat at home. I’m not talking about that leek frittata you knocked up one night after one too much Jaeger: more and more of Glasgow’s best restaurants are opening up bolt-holes next door to their main restaurants, offering their full á la carte menu in polystyrene rather than on plates. The real pioneers of take-home haute-cuisine are the Indian restaurants, but increasingly Italian city favourites like Tony Macaroni have let you enjoy their tagliatelle in front of your telly.

Generally, the carry-out options is cheaper; there are no dodgy electronic reservation systems or Friday queues, and you can get the restaurant’s £20 bottle of Rioja for £3.33 at ASDA for extra savings. 

At 6.35pm on a Saturday evening, I called Mother India’s Café and ordered the chicken dhansac with wholemeal chapatti. The pleasant young lady on the phone politely informed me that my meal would be available for collection in 25 minutes – not bad for a Saturday night in a restaurant well known for its queues.

In fact, I actually felt pretty bad for the punters lining up outside the restaurant when I arrived, peering in at the diners smiling and laughing in the kitchen’s warm glow, swanning in to pick up my bag. So far so good: one-nil to the carry out. After the short walk home, I find that unfortunately the restaurant has drawn level - my chapatti is cold. Not the end of the world. We’re still in this: me, the dhansac and Harry Hill.

The dhansac is rich in lentils, with plenty of large, soft chicken breast pieces. Very impressive. Not overly spicy, the smooth flavour of the lentils is held together well with the chopped green chillies and fresh herbs which also add colour.

Satisfied, I reflected on my carry out. In the privacy of my living room, I had enjoyed some of the finest Indian food in the UK. I had waited no more than 25 minutes and spent under a tenner (£7.60 for curry and chapatti, £1 for beer). However, my chapatti was cold and I felt like a bit of a sad case, stuffing my face in front of the telly alone on a Saturday night.