Review - Cinnamon Kitchen

Every once in a while, you encounter a restaurant dish that just makes you realise why you love food so much and why sometimes, you are quite happy to pay frightening sums of money for such a basic commodity. Once you've devoured it and wallowed in it's splendid and glory, you then suffer the lingering after affects. It's with you constantly, like you a new puppy nudging you to remind you it's there, clinging to your senses. It's with you on the train to work, down the pub on a Friday with your mates and dare I say in bed with you and your partner when at that time, there should be many other wonderful thoughts drifting through your mind. Other food and dishes become insignificant and pointless. Eventually, you can gradually let go and return to some foodie normality.

I am talking of course about the Pistachio cake served at the end of my meal by the Cinnamon Kitchen in Devonshire Square. OMG, how fragrant and wonderful it was, a soft green, grassy valley of flavour and textures where you run bare footed and care free like some character from the Sound of Music. This was my first meal with this little sister of the Cinnamon family which also links up with Bar Anise adjoining. A fabulous and vibrant joint and an ideal meeting place to sip some great cocktails before your meal, but for some reason always lacking in customers?

The service at the Cinnamon Kitchen felt just right although the wine waiter seemed somewhat lost with our request for a pint of Guinness. Our table of four opted to try five different starters and we all agreed that the vegetarian Bengali style vegetable cake was a sure winner with the pork ribs a close second. The mains were just as impressive. The biryani we ordered served two and was good value and you can choose either chicken, vegetable or lamb. A truly magnificent and fragrant dish, so delicate and yet so flavoursome served in it's own little ceramic pot. But hang on what's this arriving with our steak, “Masala Potatoes Wedges” having the appearance and texture of wet Guinea pig's ears and reminiscent of those frozen fellows you can buy for in Iceland for next to nothing. Come on Cinnamon Kitchen, please drop those floppy awful things in the bin where they belong and be a bit more creative with your potatoes!