Alan Cookman

visits Prachee, Keele

This column is in danger of turning into the hungry golfer's

guide to 19th hole dining.

For the second time in a month, I've tied on the old

nose-bag in sight of fairway and rough.

On this occasion, however, the fairways are ones I have

personally graced, albeit 20 years ago.

It was at the "muni opposite the uni" that my liquid gold

swing was honed to perfection in Saturday morning foursomes

that often started before sun-up.

We played in all weathers, including snow, fortified by

bacon butties and flasks of hot coffee laced with brandy.

Pausing at the ninth tee to drink the coffee and eat the

sandwiches, we sometimes drew disapproving glances from other

golfers who considered this to be low conduct, probably in

breach of golfing etiquette.

Even munis have pompous snobs.

The week after a pursuing twosome gave us the evil eye at

buttie time, one of our number unpacked the coffee on the 9th

and with studied gentility served it in bone china cups and

saucers.

Anyway, the premises where we slaked our thirsts after a

gruelling round have been reincarnated as Prachee, a most

inviting restaurant specialising in the cuisine of India and

Bangladesh.

I can remember when a fiery Ruby would have gone down

extremely well after struggling to break the ton on a freezing

morning in January, but I normally tend to go for flavour

rather than the kind of heat that melts teeth enamel.

At Prachee, there are dishes to suit the bravest and most

timid of palates, and I was frankly overwhelmed by the choice

of kahari, balti, jalfrezi, dupiaza, bhuna, korma, biryani,

bangalore and dhansak dishes.

Instead I concentrated on the chef's specials, which are

sprinkled with social data as well as comprehensive details of

the ingredients and heat warnings where appropriate.

We are advised, for example, that Prachee bhujon (£7.50) is

"a dish that is popular among the Indian royal families, cooked

in an authentic Bengali style using a mixture of onions, green

peppers and fresh garlic in a richly flavoured, thick curry

sauce".

Other spicy dishes are said to be the choice of the less

exalted, such as lau ghust (£8.95), which is cooked using

Bangladeshi pumpkin, and the Sylety special (£9.50) is a dish

favoured by the Sylety people of Bangladesh - king prawns

cooked with green beans and fresh herbs and spices in an

aromatic sauce.

I must say that hash karool (£8.95), a dish cooked using

duck fillets and bamboo shoots, caught my eye in a big way, but

I've developed a liking for the fish dishes of the Subcontinent

and so I chose machli kofta (£9.50) which consists of deep

fried balls of minced chital fish - a freshwater species found

in Bangladesh - served with a tangy sauce of garlic, ginger,

coriander and onions.

It was mild, but tasty and agreeably different. The Son

& Heir, my sole companion on this occasion, had the

tandoori mixed grill served with vegetable curry sauce, and it

seemed a generous and varied plateful for £8.50.

Somewhat disconcertingly, however, an additional dish

materialised along with the stuff we'd ordered. I

It sat on the warming tray looking extremely tasty, but I

was loath to dig in lest another diner came over and haughtily

claimed it.

The Son & Heir let me stew for a minute or two and then

told me it was a complimentary dish.

"Complimentary?" I said. He explained that the waiter had

told him the chef was experimenting with a new dish, and would

like us to try it.

"It's so new they haven't even thought up a name for it," he

said. It was chicken in a rich, dark and spicy sauce, and we

were both impressed.

The Son & Heir had started with the Prachee special

mixed starter (£3.95), by the way, and I had chicken and lamb

tikka (£3.50). Before that we'd shared poppadoms and chutneys

(£3.50), which are the ideal appetiser.

On the way home we applied our minds to the issue of finding

a name for the nameless dish.

"What day is it?" I asked the Son & Heir. "It's

Tuesday," he said.

"Well, there you go," I said. "I shall propose that the

nameless dish be named Ruby Tuesday."