The Light of Bengal has stood like a beacon for curry lovers across the north-east – and possibly farther afield – for more than 35 years.
That light burns as bright as ever in Rose Street, Aberdeen, and standards remain impressively high, judging by a busy Saturday night recently.
The restaurant has enjoyed a bright and breezy makeover, which gives it a contemporary look with an ethnic twist.
Now I felt I was in one of those film scenes, when you are hit suddenly by a change of pace and backdrop: we walked off a street where life was going on in the usual humdrum way, and stepped into a lively and welcoming atmosphere luxuriating in aromas and sights of mouth-watering food. There was a friendly hubbub which made us relax instantly and look forward eagerly to the night ahead.
We were slightly anxious as we had negotiated one of their special alcove tables, which run down one side of the dining room and offer a little more privacy and opulence.
It appears these tables are at a premium, as they did not seem keen to reserve one for us when we telephoned a few days earlier.
So, it was a pleasant surprise when, after being greeted warmly at the door, we were led immediately to the table we wanted. That was a good result and reflected well on the staff, especially as it was heaving and, no doubt, many had designs on hijacking our table before we arrived.
We had heard many good reports about the Light of Bengal and the quality of its food. We could tell there were a lot of loyal regulars around us, just by the way waiters were greeting certain guests and the conversations they were striking up.
The way the restaurant has been designed means there is a runway for waiting staff straight down the middle, so there is a constant flow of staff sweeping by your table. There are tables upstairs, too.
And they were so eagle-eyed, picking up every nod of the head, raised eyebrow or swish of your hand to indicate you needed something. Sometimes, I didn’t have to say anything: they just inquired anyway.
Good waitering skills were obviously a top priority here: the staff were friendly, eager to accommodate, even if you wanted to add something to a dish which was not on the menu – as we did when we mixed chicken and lamb – and genuinely keen to have a chat, duties permitting.
One of them, Naz, did have particularly good observational skills: I popped back three weeks later for a carry-out – and he remembered me straight away, and the exact table at which we were sitting.
I wondered why I was so memorable, and then recalled how I had jumped up sharply with a gasp and sprinted out of the restaurant before the main course – explaining to startled staff that I was leaving my wife as collateral, in case I did not return (I had to rush back to the car park because I had not displayed my parking ticket). Maybe that was it.
What was on display here, however, was a wonderful feast of Indian food and we were spoiled for choice.
For starters: aubergine aloo puri and king prawn puri. The presentation was knockout – each puri was served in a shell-like pastry case, with a delicious portion of bread on the side for dipping. The portions were generous and the delicious taste combinations matched the stylish look. An accompaniment of poppadoms and chutneys was also very generous.
I didn’t think mains could get any better, but then my salmon tikka tandoori swam into view: it’s difficult to know where to start.
Well, the first thing to say was that the size took my breath away – it was as though a full-size salmon had leaped out of the Falls of Feugh and onto my plate.
The chefs had worked their magic and transformed it into eight to 10 filleted chunks of sheer salmon heaven, which melted in the mouth and yet had an intensity which was unforgettable. A mild curry sauce complemented it perfectly.
My wife, not a lover of curries which are too hot and spicy, also chose well: chicken and lamb Malayan, which was a milder taste for those with sensitive taste buds, and a ring of pineapple gave it a fruity appeal.
Garlic fried rice and light crispy garlic naan bread almost rounded off the picture, but I added a portion of aloo gobi (potato and cauliflower) for good measure.
We ended with traditional Indian mango kulfi ice cream to cool our palates.
What a feast, indeed. It was so good, I have been back repeatedly for carry-outs of the prawn puri – I’m hooked – and the welcome is just as friendly.
I hope the Light of Bengal shines on for many moons to come based on this performance.
