Boy does that name bring back a memory or two I may have had my last meal here well over a two…read moredecades ago, but I never forget a good meal. These kinds of places never change, so I guess the food is as good now as it was back then; I bet my life on it. (Goetz can confirm that.)
Meghna Grill is a gloriously quaint, airy, invitingly cosy, sub-continental haven, that provides an inordinate amount of delectable Indian delicacies; cooked to perfection, and served with the utmost invisibly obeisant respect and warmhearted attentiveness. There is an effortless sense of charm in this restaurant; extremely eager to please, but in a masterfully passive sort of way.
I remember distinctly how the soft white/blue decor and immaculate service managed to seamlessly blend classic style with modern approach, managing to add a little bit of unobtrusive luxury to good old classic local 'Indian' dining. It was oh-so clean in there, sort of looked like a drained, carpeted Greco/Roman bathhouse, or something. It was whiter than white; pristine in appearance. The design and layout of the restaurant is a tried-and-trusted formula; with the mock 'bar' being the focal point of attention in the room, from whence you can summon a waiter, one who will always be posted there.
There was a smattering of ritualistic pomp and circumstance at the beginning of the meal, whereby at your chosen table, the old tablecloth (regardless of whether or not someone had even eaten there) would be demonstratively whipped-out, 'bull-fighter' style, and then promptly replaced 'Mary Poppins' style, with a fresh one, your one, just for you, with noticeably more time spent and more emphasis placed on, the laying of your tablecloth, than with the removal of the previous one. It is this kind of well-timed, showy but untroubling act of hospitality, that can add a touch of splendor to what is essentially just an evening's meal.
A proper local (you wouldn't be able to spot it unless you knew about it.); I wouldn't say it was hidden, but it is certainly 'off the beaten track'. I will never forget the joy of watching the owner of Meghna Grill, tip-toeing up to and tentatively peeping out of the front window every now and again, as he kept an apprehensively watchful eye on the competition that had just set up camp across the way. He was monitoring the customer-flow of his newfound archnemesis, bless him, making sure that none of the faces, being lured into this apparent apocalyptic downfall incarnate, were familiar, belonging to any of his loyal, regular customers.
That was twenty years ago Is he still peeping?! He's a peeping-Grill, he is. He must've installed some kind of periscope up the Victorian chimney-hole by now.SurelyAll that time?! Maybe he's developed X-ray vision from twenty years of peeping across the road? Who knows? Maybe he can cook curry with his eyes, now that the lazer-beams are coming out of them after twenty years of perpetual peeping; he's a Super-hero, 'Meghna-man' to the rescue. He shouldda gone to spec-savers
WellThere's no need to peep anymore, that is for certain (there was neither any need to peep back then), as Meghna Grill stands proud as a benchmark amongst benchmarks of fine, local, London Indian dining.
(Take heed: War and Peace menu alert.)