Reviews on Montys of Kathmandu
Louise East, The Irish Times Magazine, 8th March 2003
PARADISE FOUND
`I don't know why it has taken me so long to visit Montys of Kathmandu , but I suspect i'm guilty of a form of culinary bigotry. Nepalese cuisine - surely it's just Indian food, only with more goat meat. Certainly, its not for want of encouragement because for a long time now, Montys has been one of the worst kept secrets in Dublin. It has a got a string of award (most recently Best Ethnic Restaurant from Restaurant Association of Ireland) and enthusiastiv fans from Darina Allen to and John McKenna to Quentin Tarantino to and Bono.
Still, I had no idea what to expect, although I suspected that momos, a Nepalese speciality I'd eaten in northern India and remembered as rather Play-doh, would play a large part. The first surprise was the restaurant was nearly full on a cold Tuesday night, and the voices were mostly Irish, in itself a rarity in Temple Bar restaurant. The decor is more ethnic chic that hallucinatory Asian, i.e. white-painted woodwork, paintings of Nepal, and fairylights rather than Magic-eye carpet and pink napkins.
Skimming through the admirably concise menu, I was relieved to see that momos needed to be ordered 24 hours in advance. There was nary a goat to be seen, so bang goes that stereotype, and although there were some dishes familiar from Indian cuisine, much was intriguingly unfamiliar. We ordered a rake of food we'd never heard of before, and couple of lassis, which were mango and salt in flavour, and which ere as deliciosly Proustian as you could expect a yoghurt drink to be.
Our starterts looked a little like a domestic science demonstration - one plate of raw meat, one furiously sizzling hot plate holding poleko squid. The baby squid had been marinated then popped on the griddle with chopped onions, and were quite unbelievably tender.
The raw meat was a typical Nepalese dish called kachela - a patty of raw minced lamb combined with what tasted like cumin, coriander seed and garlic, served with a shot of Jameson whiskey. Apparently it's beloved of the Newars of the Kathmandu Valley, and I can only suggest yo say "Yes Please" the next time a Newar invites you to dinner.
The meat was tender as prime sushi, and just spicy enough to allow the the light, non-musky flavour of the lamb to shine through. Manager and co-owner Shiva Gautam is obviously well used to customers demanding to know the pedigree of a dish so stunning, as he glided over and explained they use only the best leg meat from very young Australian lambs to get meat so lean and succulent. I liked the effect of the whiskey's warmth echoing the tang of the spiced lamb, too.
Our mains were prawn Gorkhali, and lamb sekuwa chat pat, the first dish of plump prawns, in a supremely creamy pale green sauce, the second, lamb with tomatoes, green pepper and onion. Both were good, and obviously used top-quality raw meat and shellfish, but the gorkhali was a stunner. It was a yoghurt-based sauce, but it had something creamier and denser going on, too. Powdered almonds we wondered, but Shiva Gautam clammed up; Montys is ahead of the pack and they obviously intend to keep it that way.
Whatever the secret ingridients are, they work - it was creamy without being either too rich or too mild, and had a great depth of flavour. The lamb had been marinated and cooked tandoori style, then tossed and cooked with tomato, chilli, lemon and chat masala. Brilliantly, the vegetables kept their bite, and even the green pepper, not usually a vegetable I see much point in, was full of its own acute flavour. We also loved side order of chiao tareko, which was fairly hot and spicy stew of mushrooms, tomatoes, and onions, with some surprise shards of fresh ginger.
We finished with jasmine tea, and a piece of gajar ko haluwa, which is best described as carrot-flavoured sticky toffee pudding was really quite divine, despite its accompanying ice cream, which tasted nothing but pink.
Although we weren't drinking, the wine list had a good selection of bottles, old world and new, obviously chosen for their ability to work with spicy food, as well as the most interesting -sounding Shiva lager, brewed specially for Montys by the Celtic Brewing Company.
Montys may have paper cloths but it has the class of a linen and crystal restaurant - freshly made dips for the pappadums, great raw produce, clean fresh flavours. It may have taken me a while to get there, but I'll be back. I may even make a date with those momos.
THE DAMAGE
1 Poleko squid €8.00,1 Kacela €12.95,1 Prawn Gorkhali €18,1 Lamb sekuwa chatpate €16,1 Chiao tareko €5.50,1 Rice €2.80,1 Gajar ko Haluwa €6.00,1 Large bottle of mineral water €4.50,1 Mango lassi €3.50,1 salt lassi €3.00,2 Jasmine tea €2.60,
Service €12.00
TOTAL €94.85
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Everything is bigger and better in London'. Yeah, right Sam. 'We've got great cags, the best clothes shops, trendy clubs and bars, great sushi bars and the best Indial restaurants'.
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This is my buddy sam - the Londoner - propping up the bar in Cafe en Seine in his trendy black gear and boasting about London. well, just to shut him up, I took him to Montys of Kathmandu in the heart of Temple Bar - Dublin's answer to London's Soho.
Sam was impressed with the decor, that's one point to me. It's kind of a modern bistro style - creamy pannelled walls, dark tables and chairs.
The walls are decorated with pictures of majestic Nepalese mountains. Of course, Sam boasted he'd climbed, snowboarded and cycled there with his buddy Brice - Brice, by the way is his imaginary friend.
we sipped on a couple of Shiva (€4.50), beer made by the Celtic Brewing company specially for the restaurant. This prompted the comment 'not bad larger', from Sam. That's two point to me.
The menu is vast but the friendly staff are more that happy to offer suggestion and if you feel in any way adventurous, let them guide you.
To tantalise our taste buds we nibbled on crispy poppadums and chutneys. Then Sam, being Sam, tried to pronounce some of the dishes on the menu, which only resulted in him getting the ones the waiters suggested. Three points to me.
Upon their recommendations we went for Kachela (€12.95) - raw minced lamb with garlic, ginger, herbs and spices, served with a shot of whiskey - an absolutely sensual dish for us Dubs.
The lamb was raw, yet tender and succulent and was the best starter I have had in a good while. However, Sam, (who is not a whiskey drinker) thought it might have been nicer with sherry or a port.
We also shared kukhura ko chuso masu (€7.50) - medium spiced chicken cooked in a tandoor and served on a bed of salad. The pieces of chicken were succulent and tasty, perfectly tender, well spiced and cooked. Sam managed a smile. (Four points)
with our bellies satisfied with the suruwat (starters), we were looking forward to the main dishes. As we waited we sipped on a soft, scrumptious and spicy plum fruity red - La Cruz Montgras Cabernet sauvignon (Chilean) at €17, not bad value for the house wine.
There is a good selection of wines, which vary in prices. Or if you fancy something stronger to drink, Montys is fully licensed and they stock all major spirits and liqueurs.
Again with so many wonderful choices, we found it hard to decide on our main courses. In the end we let our friendly waiters guide us and went for Hasina (€16) - medium spiced lamb cooked with onions, tomatoes and capsicum and King Prawn gorkhali (€18) - a spicy Nepalese dish with yoghurt, fresh chillies, ginger, and touch of garlic.
Both dishes were, oh so tasty. The tender lamb (which arrived sizzling on a hot plate) had been carefully marinated nad flavoured with mild Himalayan spices, then expertly cooked in tandoor. The prawns were swimming in a rich sauce that was bitingly fresh. A must try.
We were going to try a popular dish from Kathmandu, MOMO (€14) - a Nepalese dumplings served with Momo chutney, but this dish requires prior notice ( they recommend 24 hours), so I will return.
we also shared Pilau rice (€3) and the best ever Peshwari Nan (€3.75). Sam, not able to admit defeat, ordered Jhaneko Dhal (€6), that's lentils with garlic, ginger, and cumin seeds - a delightful dish that was the perfect finishing touch to a super meal.
Monty's is one of the best Indians in town. It offers superb food with terriffic character at affordable prices.
Through the course of the evening, my points race with Sam was forgotten as we became distracted by the mouth watering food. However, the last score was Aoileann 4, sam 0.
We are fortunate to have a growing selection of great restaurants at affordable prices in Dublin and Monty's must rank as one of the leaders in that class. Miss it at your peril!!!
THE DAMAGE: €92.20
FOOD: Terrific
ATMOSPHERE: friendly and relaxed
AND? Take the advice of the waiters, they know their stuff.
>>Back To TOPAnyone who discovers Monty's of Kathmandu, a tiny unassuming little room in Temple Bar, usually wants to keep it to themselves. But the gossip is very, very good indeed:
Monty's is hot.
Whilst at first glance it looks a lot like Indian food, Montys speciality is Nepalese cooking, and its signature dishes - Kachela, which is raw minced lamb with garlic, ginger, and herbs, served with a shot of whiskey, or Momo, a dumpling served with Nepali chuney are subtle and beautifully delivered.
Owner Shiva Gautam's mind is in the details, and his paneer masala, for instance, is all the more delicate and unusual for its main ingridient, home made curd cheese. With too many mediocre restaurants in temple Bar, Monty's of Kathmandu is invaluable. Don't miss their own SHIVA beer, brewed for them in County Meath.
>>Back To TOPYears ago I used t frequent a certain licenced premises in Dublin where one of the regulars, a man I never actually met, would frequently hold forth on culinary matters. He was a large man with fists the size of small counties and pair of pendulous buttocks which enveloped the bar stool in the kind of embrace that would put you in mind of a neddle in a haydtack. His very act of sitting down at the bar looked as if he was defying nature.
Anyway, he seemed to haoil from the fine old county of Louth and his speech was rich in the rolling R and narrow U of those parts. He first came to my attention as he told his drinking companion, a bald man who looke liked prematurely aged turf accountant, to look out for a particular wine "Its Robert Mondavi Pinot Noir Reserve,"he intoned gravely. "And Jaysus, do you wha'? Its a real knife and fork job." Ever since, I have applied that description to new World wines of a muscular sort.
The comment I remember most vividly, however, concerned ethnic food. The prematurely aged bookie had said something to the effect that he wasn't very gone on Indian grub. Our friend stopped him in mid-sentence and inquired if he, the bookie, knew teh knife and fork masn, was going to tell him? The bookie did not.
"I never fancied the Indian stuss," he said. "French, Eyetalian, even the odd Chinese, I couldn't get enough. But one day I had lunch in a great Indian place in Leeds and do you know what I did then? I went out and bought Mad Hoor Jaffrey's book. Mad Hoor Jaffrey has no time for curries. She's all for the real thing."
Ms Jaffrey is, indeed concerned with authenticity and she comments in the introduction to her Invitation to Indian Cooking that what she found in Indian restaurants when she first came to Britain didn't have a whole lot of it. In those days, many of the people cooking in such restaurants were not chefs at all; they were merchant seamen and unskilled labourers who were simply trying to make a living.
Britain now has a large Indian popoulation that it can sustain plenty of good ethnic restaurants where the clientele will know, like a shot, if the chaps in the Kitchen are chefs or road menders. In Ireland, its not quite the same. The average 'Indian' restaurant here is pretty basic, the food rarely exciting, the whole notion of regional Moukhay Khana subjugated to the tika masala tendency.
Montys of Kathmandu (actually in Temple Bar) is run by Shiva Gautam, whose passionfor getting things right knows no bounds. He is constantly tweaking the wine list and he has commissioned his very own, full-blodded lager from one of our new micro-breweries. How many restaurants do that?
Monty's is carefully positioned in terms of price.This is the kind of place you can drop into casually and that is just what three of us did during the period that is universally known as the 'run up' to Christmas. Not the best time to judge a restaurant, admittedly, and Monty's was bursting at seams with office parties, including one that seemed to have come from London.
The culinary cannon at Monty's makes a change from the usual suspects and Kacela is a case in point: minced lamb, served raw and seasoned with ginger, garlic and mysterious but delicious spices. Not the kind of stuff you get in the neighbourhood takeaway and, in fact, a highly prized dish amongst the Newars of Nepal.
That was one of our starters. The others were tareko sabji, not unlike a unlike a delicate form of onion bhajee but made from grated mixed vegetables scented with celery-ish lovage seeds, blended with batter and deep fried, and a mild dish of little lamb meat balls called masu ko bari.
Normally, the Nepalese momo dumplings require 24 hours notice but a large party had ordered them in advance anf we managed to scoop up some some of them. They were plesantly tasty and filled with delicious lamb, well worth thinking of ahead of time.
More, conventionally, we enjoyed some enormous and succulent tandoori tiger prawns which had been thoroughly marinated in thick yoghurt and spices.
Chicken Gorkhali also utilised thick yogurt as the base of its vivid green sauce, which owes the its colour and flavour to green chillies and fresh coriander leaves with the yogurt and other spices, to a thick , smooth puree.
And finally, a fairly conventional but quite delicious dish of tandoori baked chicken finished in a rich, buttery, creamy sauce.
We consumed a copule of beers each and I can report that montys ownstuff really hits the spot with these dishes and came out with a bill for £86.20 (€ 109.45) before service.
Fresh spices, chillies, and Asian ingidients like soy sauce, lemon grass, nampla, mirin, garam masala, are hopping off the shelves in shops at a terriffic rate.
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Apparently, we're beoming more adventurous by the week. Once we get a taste of those irressistible spicy flavours of the East and Far East we're hooked.
At last the ethnic restaurants in this country are begining to gain the recognition and status they deserve.
Up to recently it has been a somewhat of a catch 22 situation. Many Indian, Chinese, Thai and Lebanese restaurants serve a diluted version of their native cuisine to suit what they perceive to be our unsophisticated tastebuds.
This, however, is increasingly unsatisfying for the growing number of people who have tasted at source and realise they are being denied the authentic experience by this patronising attitude.
However, more recentlya growing number of ethnic restaurants have been offering more authentic regional Moukhay Khana. On a recent trip to Dublin I sought out Neplaese food in the Temple Bar area, at Montys of Kathmandu.
The owner Shiva Gautam is at pains to stress that he serves Nepalese, not Indian food.
Shiva who is an engineer by profession, did his degree in London. He had lots of Irish friends who wanted him to visit. He fell in love with Ireland and eventually opened his restaurant, with his wife Lina to serve his favourite food from Nepal.
All the chefs are Nepalese anf the kitchen is semi open plan so one can smell the tantalising aromas from the tandoori oven. I sat close to the window under the watchful eyes of the God Shiva and ate my way through about 10 courses, I simply could not decide what to order so I kept being tempted by yet another dish.
Lamb Kachela, raw minced lamb flavoured with freshly ground spices, garlic ginger and coriander, was delicious.
Crispy onion bhajees with crushed coriander seeds and a yoghurt mint raita and Aloo kerau papad roll are aslo worth seeking out.
For the latter the poppadums were soaked in water then used as a wrapper for a filling of pea, spring onion, chilli, ginger, potato and fresh coriander.
I tasted three chicken dishes, Chicken chata mari was served on an interesting rice pancake, Gorkhali chicken and the house special Tandoori Butter Chicken.
More temptations kept coming , I also tucked with relish into choila, a spicy lamb dish follwed by Methi Gosth, tender lamb cooked with fresh herbs and fenugreek.
Shiva very kindly wrote out several of his recipes for us to try, but if you'd like someone else to chop the chillies and grind those spices then seek out Montys of Kathmandu, 28 Eustace street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2. (opposite the Irish Film Centre), Tel. 01 6704911, Fax 01 4944359, email: montys@eircom.net. Web:www.montys.ie
Shiva's Rice, Serves four
1.5 cups of Basmati rice, 2.5 cups of water
Clean and soak rice for minimum 15 minutes before cooking. Drain and add the precise amount of water, cover and bring to boil. Once boiling reduce the heat to simmer and remove the cover, stir. After 2-3 minutes cover the rice and cook at the same reduced heat and cook until all water is absorbed. Turn heat off and leave covered.
Chicken Curry, serves 4
1kg of chicken diced on the bone (1.5 inch pieces), 1 onion cut in julienne, 5 cloves of garlic crushed, 1 teaspoon of ginger paste, 200g (7oz) of canned tomatoes, 2 teaspoon of plain masala (ground cumin and coriander), 1 teaspoon of garam masala, 0.5 teaspoon of tumeric powder, 1 to 2 fresh green chillies finely chopped, 3 to 4 tablespoon of mustard oil or vegetable oil, 2 tablespoon of finely chopped coriander, salt to taste.
Heat the oil in a saucepan and add the onions, fry for one minute and add chicken. Stir well and cook the chicken for few minutes. Add tumeric powder and salt and stir thoroughly and cover and cook for ten minutes. Once cooked add the spices, garlic, ginger and tomatoes. Stir well and cover and cook for 3 to 5 minutes and add 0.5 cup of water for the sauce and stir again. Once the curry thickens add teh coriander stir and leave for one minute. Serve with rice and Dall.
>>Back To TOPYou need venture no further than Dublin's Temple Bar for food from the roof of the world that scales the ordinary
"Fornication, uncleanness, immodesty, luxury, idolatry, witchcrafts, enmities." It was the Epistle of Saint Paul to the Galatians at Mass last Sunday. The saint was only warming up in his description of what seemed like a real fun-loving group. Getting into his stride he developed his theme: "Contentions, emulations, wraths, quarrels, dissensions, sects, envies, murders, drunkenness, revellings and such like."
Now what did it remind me of? In sudden triumph I cried aloud "Temple Bar!" alarming the congregation no end. Except that Paul had missed knicker parties, mooning and tattooing, it was a lifelike picture of the district which is first on every young European's knapsack holiday route. The surest sign of its success is the way the district creeps beyond its nominal boundaries: already in the north side of Christchurch and pawing at the shores of Dame Street, anxious to make the leap across.
Temple Bar is the Mount Everest of drunkenness, the Koh-i-noor of mooning. And perhaps the Pits of cooking. Yes, yes, there are exceptions, but how long do they last with current problems in the staffing area?
Last Friday (as I write) I found an exception: Monty's of Kathmandu, a Nepalese restaurant two years old and just celebrating its full liquor licence. It is quite a modest little place but it pleased me no end; its budget lunch is legendary for good value. After sampling establishments which believe in shearing the sheep down to the naked cuticle I felt like shouting Hallelujah. Monty's is on the Dame Street end of Eustace Street - that's the very quiet end - near where you get into the Irish Film Centre.
My recent fate has doomed me to come upon a restaurant which is in the process of changing its menu. So it was with Monty's which was switching the following week from mainstream Indian to full-frontal Nepalese. Accordingly we ate more like Northern India than from the specific cookery of the Nepal region. Nepal is that large kingdom, more than twice the size of Ireland, on the top right of the map of the Indian sub-continent, separated from China by the Himalayas. It was once a British dependent buffer state.
According to the great Alan Davidson's 'Encyclopaedia Of Food', Nepalese food is influenced by Tibetan and North Indian traditions - the yak and the cow meeting head-on. He adds, perhaps unnecessarily, that the ordinary people live fairly austerely on rice, maize, vegetables, and fruit, while - surprise! - the Others live richly and sumptuously. (There is a festival pleasantly called Gumpuni at which the festival dish is composed of many varieties of beans.) However, Kathmandu, evidently 'Monty's' parish, is a lusher place; the indigenous Newars favour something more on the luxury line, and I imagine the new Nepalese menu will reflect this aspect rather than goat kebab, turnips and wholemeal chapattis. I have no doubt that whatever is served will be delicious.
My guest was a man with Loads Of Dough; he started with a vegetable samosa, a deep-fried pastry with filling. As we were eating communally, forks and fingers diving everywhere, I'll give you both verdicts. LOD: he liked the concept and the execution, savoury and hot. HLB: outer envelope a bit greasy and hard, inside much better.
His main course dish of Buttered Tandoori chicken rises in my memory even as I write, in its sumptuous sophisticated richness. (Margarined Tandoori chicken would not have the same instant allure, you understand.) The enveloping lightly spiced sauce on the moist tender chicken glided over the tongue and down the throat with a feeling I can describe only as silk satin velvet made edible. If there is such a thing as a cholesterol gauge I reckon that the needle would soar to the red danger mark on the dial only a quarter way through this dish whose sauce is made - I was told - with a reduction of tomatoes cooked until they are a velvety puree. Oddly, it had little tomato acid and tasted more of sweet peppers, though I merely accepted unquestioningly as if from a god the mystic substance, being in such a state of bliss. And so was LOD. His comments recollected in tranquillity: "Aaaaah! I still remember it a week later." It cost £9.95 and gave £100 worth of pleasure.
I had started with a Prawn Puri. The Puri part is a pancakey bread which puffs up when deep-fried. When I got through to the prawns - after the sharp jolt up the nose from the sauce and the wiping away of resultant streaming liquid - I found they did keep their prawn taste adequately. Not quite sure for half the dish, I became an enthusiast by the finishing line. At £4.50 it was the most expensive of the starters.
Next, for me, "Hasina" which was a tandoori dish of lamb: "boneless tender lamb pieces cooked with onions, tomatoes and capsicum, £8.75." With temerity I suggest that it should read "Husaini" Kebab: the name suggests Moslem cookery. It reminded me of hearty picnic food and its noticeable resemblance to Turkish and Greek food was reinforced by its strong taste of itself without the subtlety and contrasts of Hindu cookery. The whole lot was threaded on skewers which you disconnect before eating. Nervous people, people who go for the 'the plainer the better' type of food, should go for this and will be highly satisfied. As I was. In fact it was delicious, but had not the voluptuous sense of sin possessed by the Buttered Chicken. Indeed the Buttered Chicken should be made a reserved sin as poteen making was in days not so long ago.
Don't worry, Monty; it never stopped them making the poteen and like the books on the Index it will sought only the more eagerly. We had ordered a bottle of white wine, which in my experience is a better companion to Indian food than red and our choice was quite good. It was an adequate inexpensive Chardonnay. But a casual reference by Padraic, our waiter, to Lassi, the yoghurt-based drink, brought us two glasses and four straws. One glass held the usual sort of salty Lassi, the other held one mixed with mango. Go for it! Go for multiple it, rather, for I at least could drink that mango concoction all night. Mango £2, salty £1.60. All sort of other little dishes cropped up: various dipping sauces for our starters, Brinjal Bhajee with our main courses.
By pudding time we fairly bet and merely sampled two out of the list courtesy of the house. Ghajar Ko Haluwa was described rather misleadingly as a carrot cake with a difference. In fact it is the old favourite carrot halvah which I have made quite often. The Indian recipe stews grated carrot in milk with cinnamon, reduces it slowly, adds saffron, cardamon, honey and butter, and this version seemed much the same. Haluwa Cake - "soft and warm with nuts and cinnamon" - did not approach it in flavour, being more like a well-educated bread pudding. LOD thought neither pudding was in the same class as the main courses and I concurred.
We both long to go back. Service was informed and excellent.
I added an extra £4 to the 10 per cent service charge, bringing the bill to £73.
>>Back To TOPIt was the picture of Quentin Tarantino in the window of Monty's that first arrested my attention. There he was, tucking into something spicy, in Monty's of Temple Bar. And so was Bono and various other very famous folk. Clearly, they had either ended up there by accident or they knew something I didn't. As it happens, they did.
Monty's set lunch for £7 is perhaps the best buy in Dublin and the food is terrific. The chefs are all Nepalese and although the mainstays of Indian cuisine as known in Ireland are well represented, there is a definite flavour of Nepal throughout the menu.
Kukhura Ko Phaketa turned out to be six plump chicken wings, very meaty, marinated in a spicy concoction which appeared to involve a lot of lemon and fresh coriander, and chargrilled. They were crisp, succulent and tingling with flavour. Onion bhajees were crisp, not a bit oily and very, very spicy. Unusually, the natural sweetness of the onion was the most striking feature of this impressive version of an old favourite.
Himali kebab was a rib sticking affair involving a cross between an omelette and a pancake, quite thick, into which chopped fresh coriander had been incorporated. This was wrapped around a filling of tender lamb pieces bathed in a tomato sauce spiked with chilli and cumin. More sauce was served on the side for lubrication. The rather mundane sounding kebab cocktail, however, was even better. A minced lamb tandoori was chopped into bite-sized pieces and served in a very rich, buttery tomato sauce, mildly spiced with garam masala. This was mopped up with some of the lightest, most delicious naan bread I've ever tasted.
In a gesture of wild extravagance we consumed a bottle of Bonny Doon Ca' del Solo Malvasia Bianca (at £16.50) which kicked the price of this exemplary lunch to the dizzying heights of £32.60, excluding service.
Treading the adventurous track when it comes to dining in the city can often be expensive and at times a little daunting. But those looking for a new culinary challenge at a very reasonable price should consider Monty's of Kathmandu, Ireland's only Nepalese restaurant.
Simply decorated with Nepalese motifs, Monty's is perfect for both the uninitiated diner as well as those who are familiar with Himalayan cuisine, offering a wide choice of dishes.
The lunchtime deal, £7.50, for a four-course meal, would have to be one of the best on offer in the city, and definitely in Temple Bar.
We dined on a relatively quiet Saturday afternoon, allowing plenty of time to soak up the Nepalese hospitality. Service was prompt and friendly, with a plate of traditional appetisers arriving soon after we were seated. Popadums piled high were accompanied by three very different dips - a mild yoghurt and mint, a tangy onion chutney with sliced cucumber and chilli (my favourite) and a sweet mango sauce. A great introduction to the wide variety of tantalising flavours that have hooked many a backpacker.
Forgoing more exotic-sounding dishes for the next course, I decided on the much-maligned onion bhajee, or a plate of four in this case. Although deep-fried, these were remarkably light, with a strong coriander flavour.
My friend opted for the Kukhurako Phaketa, chicken wings marinated in Himalayan spices and herbs cooked in tandoc. Every bit as delicious as it sounds, judging by the stripped plate that left our table.
Continuing along the traditional route, I chose the Ledo Bedo, Nepalese curry with freshly ground herbs, spices and laden with fresh vegetables. Served with rice (or naan if preferred), it made for a very satisfying main course. Across the table my friend enjoyed the Seek Kebab which is minced lamb in a masala sauce served with a large portion of boiled rice.
Seeking something sweet but subtle to end the meal we were both pleased with our desert choice - the Nepali Heluwa. This Nepalese sweet's simple description - wheat flour in milk and butter accompanied by almonds and juicy sultanas - belies just how delicious it really is.
Washed down with a coffee, we left Monty's on a high note with plans to dig out the backpack.
Still considered one of Dublin's best kept secrets, Monty's is a small, unassuming Nepalese restaurant specialising in genuine regional dishes from the Indian sub-continent. The kind of place one could easily miss if it wasn't for the two scrawly dinner receipts stuck to the front window. One signed: "To Shiva & Lina. Thanks, Q", in other words Quentin Tarantino, and the other sellotaped to a photograph of that self-same couple linking arms with perennially sun-glassed Bono.
Monty's set lunch costs a mere £7.50 and is considered by food to be the best buy in Dublin. The kind of place that even thinks of keeping a bottle of hand moisturiser in the ladies' loo, Monty's is a perfect example of how attention to detail and culinary confidence can transform a low-key setting into a top class Nepalese restaurant.
The Indian sub-continent is a place of incredible geographic, cultural and political diversity -- and yet the food always tastes much the same. You get it very hot, hot or medium. You get prawns six ways, mutton a dozen ways, chicken 20 ways, a few vegetarian Moukhay Khana, three or four kinds of rice (for which you always pay an extra £2 or so), a couple of regional dishes, and a range of nan breads, parathas and poppadums.
In theory, the food of Bangladesh, Pakistan, Nepal, Gujarat, Madras, Kerala and Sri Lanka should be as varied as its people, but in practice the pernicious colonising influences of Moghuls and Brits has produced a food culture as imperialistically consistent as MacDonald's or Burger King.
So the roving lager lout can order his chicken vindaloo in Birmingham or Bombay, and be assured that it will taste very hot, like chillies roasted in the roof of the mouth, that tears will come to the eyes, and that copious amounts of ale will be needed to assuage the fiery temperament.
Now and again you come across genuine regional dishes. On a visit to South India, I enjoyed the simple dhosas and iddlies offered as an alternative to western breakfasts. The dhosas are very thin pancakes, made from rice flour on a large griddle, sometimes stuffed with a potato masala. Keralan chefs amuse themselves by making these pancakes into long rolled funnels, like a thin parchment stretching across the plate. Iddlies are even simpler -- steamed rice cakes which you garnish with a sauce made from the ubiquitous coconut.
I have not come across these south Indian Moukhay Khana on a western menu, and I certainly did not expect to find them on the menu at Monty's, a Nepalese restaurant which recruits its chefs from the Himalayan kingdom. Here there are some real Nepalese Moukhay Khana to give variety to subcontinental standards such as chicken Madras and Bombay aloo, but unfortunately we could not order the intriguing mo mo, Nepalese dumplings served with momo chutney. This is apparently a very popular dish among the royal backpackers in Kathmandu, but here it requires 24 hours notice and you have to place a minimum order for six plates at £8.50 each.
There were three of us on a quiet Tuesday night in Temple Bar. Service was so prompt that we had to beg for more time to read the extensive menu. We ordered a bottle of Pinot Grigio delle Venezie (£13.50) to start with -- a dry north Italian white with just enough aromatic zing to work with well-balanced spices (nothing will work if the chefs simply dump in handfuls of chilli and curry powder).
And as is so often the case in these restaurants, each of us considered the order very carefully, as if it were a matter of the greatest significance that we have the sag chicken (£7.60), served with spinach, rather than the chicken dhansak (£7.95), served hot, sweet and sour with lentils. Such discrimination means little when dishes arrive sizzling in the middle of the table, and everyone dips in like kids at a birthday party.
Inevitably, too, we ordered so much food that if we had the culture of the doggy bag in Ireland, we would have had enough left over for the rest of the week. And this was so despite a circumspect order from a reluctant vegetarian among us, who was content simply with a single order for vegetable biryani (£7.50). Biryanis are cooked in rice, so they are a clever way round the problem of having to order rice with each main dish. In many restaurants, they give you a single plate of rice among three or four people, with each person billed separately. Here they were much kinder to us, and a single plate of nicely cooked pilao-style basmati cost us £2.20 for two.
We started with crisp, spicy poppadums (three for £2.40), which we dipped in a range of chutneys. We had already lost our peckishness before the starters arrived.
I began with a dish of chicken choilia (£4.25), which is described as a special spicy chicken. I have no idea what was special about it, but it was certainly delicately spiced and intricate in flavour.
My companion's prawn puri, spicy prawns on very soft bread (£4.50), was also very successful -- and the prawns were large, firm and fresh. Clearly these Nepalese chefs were of a different calibre from the fellows who serve fiery baltis to the great unwashed of Birmingham.
One of the Moukhay Khana of the house, the most expensive item on the menu, is tandoori king prawn cocktail (£14.95), cooked with onions and capsicum in a rich creamy sauce. Tandooris are Himalayan clay oven dishes, and they can be a superb way of cooking meat and chicken dishes slowly to seal in flavours. The prawns were tempting, but I decided to go for the more comprehensive tandoori mixed grill (£10.95), which included tandoori chicken, chicken tikka, lamb tikka, sheek kebab and a few of the king prawns. This was a wonderful dish, at the heart of which was a large spiced lamb sausage.
My companions were soon dipping into my mixed grill, while I sampled the vegetable biryani and a splendid Kathmandu dish of chicken chilli (£9.50), which was deep fried in onions, capsicum, tomatoes and green chillies. We had also ordered side dishes of Bombay aloo (£4.25), a potato curry and tarka dal (£4.10), a dish of spicy lentils.
After so much food, dessert was out of the question. And yet we agreed that the food was beautifully cooked, light and delicate in conception. Monty's is one of the best Indian sub-continent restaurants in the country, and I was delighted that it appeared to be free of the dollops of ghee, or clarified butter, that so many establishments add to give a pseudo western `richness' to otherwise simple food.