To hold a Michelin star for nearly two decades, in these febrile and eventful times, is a remarkable achievement, implying a rare degree of consistency in an industry that is often bedevilled by fashion. So it has proved with Amaya in Belgravia, a restaurant that opened in 2004, was awarded its star in 2006 and has proved to be both a trendsetter and the upholder of culinary standards that few of its peers can match.
Part of the estimable India Collection, which also includes Chutney Mary and Veeraswamy, Amaya is justly proud of having brought about innovations that are now almost commonplace in high-end restaurants but were practically unknown twenty years ago, such as having an open kitchen where diners can watch the chefs work, and taking the wine and cocktails every bit as seriously as the food. But what is it like today?
I visit with my chum the Rev Fergus a couple of weeks after Amaya has once again been re-awarded its star, and, on a chilly Monday evening, there is a warmth and confidence to the greeting that we receive that reminds us both that this is the kind of place that has its reputation for a reason. The cocktail that I order shortly after arrival, a very delicious smoked Old Fashioned, is a reminder of how talented the mixologist is; it’s a pure hit of smokiness, sweetness and rum-based delight, and represents a fine curtain-raiser for what promises to be a memorable meal.
The charismatic manager Delphine comes over to say hello, and we briefly discuss the best way to tackle the menu. There are a couple of tasting menus available, the five-course selection of Amaya favourites and a more comprehensive dinner tasting menu, but there are delights on each one that we’re desperate to try. With this in mind, we work out a kind of bespoke selection of the restaurant’s most loved dishes, some long-standing heroes from decades ago and others that are more recent and just as popular. And rightly so.
We start off with a couple of splendidly unusual dishes, the crispy cabbage and noodle salad and a pair of fried rock oysters, as well as the unreservedly recommended tandoori salmon. There’s a gentle spicing that means that the food has just enough of a kick to it to have an edge, but not so much that the flavours are overwhelmed in any way. We’re recommended a glass of off-dry Riesling as a pairing, and it’s a marvellous match, cutting through the spice with aplomb.
Then it’s off to the races, or at least an exploration of some of the more carnivorous dishes on the menu. Here, there’s a dazzling amount of culinary daring that proves that the restaurant is still at the peak of innovation, two decades on. A pair of smoked lamb chilli chops have an almost buttery richness to them that means that they barely need to be chewed, so smooth and unctuous is the flavour, and there’s a fascinating subcontinental take on that old staple of Seventies restaurants, duck a l’orange, in the form of a tandoori duck leg, which sees the meat fall off the bone with alacrity.
Accompanied by a glass of well-chosen St Emilion, we just have space for a more traditional curry, in the form of butter chicken or Chicken Labadar, accompanied by a truly exceptional truffled naan. We’re sated by this point, but the ever-charming Delphine manages to lure us back for one, final encore, in the form of a couple of surprisingly light desserts, an Amaya take on that old staple, the gulab jamun, and kulfis that Fergus and I are encouraged to pick up and eat as if they’re children’s ice cream on sticks.
Both are sublime, but we’d expect nothing less from this particular restaurant, where casually brilliant cooking is presented as if it’s the diner’s due. And it is this that means that, twenty years on, Amaya is still the connoisseur’s pick of choice, and is likely to remain so for another two decades or more, too.
Amaya, Halkin Arcade, Belgravia, London SW1X 8JT. For more information, and for bookings, please visit www.amaya.biz.
