All my trips to Karachi have been spur-of-the-moment things; stepping out of the cinema into (sort of) fresh air and suddenly realising we're all ravenous, our stomachs and noses lead us to the closest curry emporium. If we're not in the mood for the drunken students of Great Horton Road, we're usually drawn to Karachi.
If one of our number has never been before, the sight of the place leads to protests and confusion. "Is this it?!" or "Isn't this just someone's house?" are the most common. That means when they're digging into the awesome food we can be smug and self-righteous, which makes food taste better.
Karachi does look like someone's house. A grubby looking mid-terrace on a sketchy looking street. Even when you walk in, it looks like you're in someone's living room. The whole place feels very "Fawlty Towers", especially with the crap decor, mismatched floral plates and somewhat shonky service. But then the food arrives and ermahgerd. Rick Stein has visited, complete with camera crew, on several occasions. It is easy to see why - or rather, easy to taste why. The curries are great, and you should try one of the specials if you can. Suddenly it doesn't feel like you're in a strange little restaurant built into a house.
Quite often, our waiter has brought us out the wrong number of cutlery, forgotten something we order, or looked at us like aliens when we remind him that we ordered drinks 20 minutes ago. In some restaurants, this kind of service comes with crap food and makes me scowl. At Karachi, the combination of fantastic food with at least one mishap per visit makes me laugh. Maybe the place is run by Basil Fawlty. Maybe it's all just a cunning ruse. Either way, bloomin' good curries. read more