Restaurant Review: The Tamil Prince, N1 London
The Tamil Prince is a newly renovated pub in Islington serving South Indian food as majestic as its namesake…
Apparently, I ate at the Tamil Prince on the same day as someone from the Evening Standard. Our waiter told us that he had no idea what the review would turn out like, but the fact that they were taking snaps of the staff (as well as the food) was “probably a good sign". Of course it’s a bloody good sign! And quite frankly it’s starting to grind my gears that every time I think I’ve identified a new neighbourhood gem, the press crawl all over it so quickly that muggins here is subsequently forced to fight for a table five months in advance.
I’m begrudgingly delighted, though, that this place has been fully booked every night since opening, and deservedly so. This is notwithstanding some of the searing heat we have experienced over the course of this summer, causing many London residents to flee the furnace and dine out in alternative, more temperate locations (such as Greece or Spain). This is truly a charming establishment, housed in the old Cuckoo in the back streets of Islington which, I have been reliably informed used to serve pizza that was “really quite crap”. Combining the complementary skills and experience of ex Roti King pair Prince Durairaj and Glen Leeson, the space has been completely transformed into a “best of British” gastropub, serving south Indian sharing plates (some authentic, some less so, but who the hell cares), delicious cocktails, and ruddy good beer.
As we sipped on a pint of Daymer pale ale and a pop-your-chops negroni, we launched proceedings with pulled beef uttapam, chicken lollipops, and onion bhaji. The beef uttapam is, in essence, a light and fluffy dosa-style pancake indigenous to the Tamil Nadu region in Southern India, made with lentil and rice flour. The pancake was paired perfectly with a chilli coconut chutney which had just enough heat that it knocked your socks off, but didn’t obliterate the subtle flavours of the beef: warm, fragrant spices and an understated sweetness. The chicken lollipops were tender and well-seasoned and to be honest, we should have stopped there with the small dishes, but of course we didn’t. The very friendly (but deceptive) waiter compelled me to order the onion bhaji without telling me that there would actually be FOUR of them. Any effort to restrain myself had failed at the first hurdle in any event, so we ordered a bottle of crisp and acidic Croatian Riesling to wash down our incoming mains.
Pulled beef uttapam, chilli and coconut chutney, and an on-the-money negroni.
Chicken lollipops, onion bhajis and an attempt to make the uttapam last as long as possible.
Chettinad lamb is another local dish from the Tamil Nadu repertoire, and its depth and complexity was quite simply superb. The meat melted right in my mouth, enhanced by the sumptuousness of a silky sauce which was rich with tomato, coconut, ginger and garlic. However, the real royal of the show (soz) was undoubtedly the channa bhatura: a majestically puffed-up masterpiece accompanied by a chickpea curry. I had just come off keto so in a carb-craving frenzy we also welcomed copious amounts of coconut rice to the table and some soft, flaky rotis. We gobbled a fresh and zingy desi salad alongside these dishes which was studded with pomegranates and sprinkled with a handful of Bombay mix (which, in my opinion, is nothing less than a stroke of genius).
Desi salad, chettinad lamb, and a sneak peak of this light and crisp Riesling from Croatia.
The famous channa bhatura (puffed up fried bread) with chickpea curry
I was quite literally too full to move after our meal, but yet there was no urgency from the waiting staff to turn tables and have my fiancé roll me all the way back to Highbury (I very much appreciate that they reserve space for walk-ins and/or people, like me, that eat too much of their wonderful food). As we moved outside and polished off our Riesling in the dappled evening sunlight, I lamented that there had been no room for dessert. Next time…
The waiting staff were laid-back, attentive and most importantly very helpful in making recommendations and explaining some of the lesser-known, local Indian dishes. It is also worth mentioning that we had a seat right next to the kitchen where we could watch each of the chefs work their magic with impressive composure and inimitable focus. This clearly paid-off since every element of each dish was well-thought out, perfectly executed and packed full of flavour. I’m a firm believer that intimate kitchens should focus on mastering a small number of dishes rather than trying (and most likely failing) to tackle too many. The Tamil Prince whole-heartedly nailed that brief without compromising on the rich variety of a very enjoyable experience.
In total, we paid £122.42 for a meal for two people: three small plates, three large plates, rice, roti, a cocktail and a beer to start followed by a bottle of wine, plus service. This might seem like a lot, but I think the amount of food we ordered would definitely have fed three people, or one average to hungry individual and a carb-deprived madwoman.
