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Yesterday evening we dined with Elizabeth, Danni, and Andy at Sanjha restaurant in Southampton’s suburb of Shirley.
My interest was aroused when the others pronounced their meals a little hotter than anticipated. Then I made a start on my lamb mirchan ma ke, served with egg rice and a plain naan.
Regular readers will know of my penchant for the flavours of hot chilies. I’ll invariably opt for a naga dish if there is one on the menu. ‘A dish for customers with iron lined stomach. Cubes of lamb cooked with a blend of red chilli powder and fresh green chilies.’ Thus was my choice as described by the restaurant.
Most of the Indian restaurants with which I am familiar are, in fact, Bangladeshi. This is why I had never come across my meal before. The restaurant is Punjabi, and to be highly recommended.
The manager told me that he would never eat red chilies. The item in question only appeared on the menu to satisfy the men coming out of pubs later on, and up for a challenge. As we left, he volunteered to make it milder next time. I surprised myself by saying that would be a good idea. Cobra beer and water had not extinguished the fire.
It is many years since a burning sensation has accompanied evacuation the morning after a curry. I was mildly apprehensive about this, but can happily report that there was no such experience.
This afternoon we trained, generally tidied up, dead-headed, and watered roses, until the mid afternoon sun, becoming hotter and raising far more of a sweat than last night’s curry, persuaded us to take our own water on the patio.
There is still more to be done,
but we hope that this corner will please Pauline.
This evening Mr Pink’s fish and chips were paired with Garner’s pickled onions for our dinner. Jackie drank Peroni and I finished the Cairanne.