REVIEW | Mace, Castlefield

A NEW Indian restaurant has opened on the sight of what was, until recently, Khan Baba – although if an Indian restaurant didn’t work there before, why should it now?

They'd used weapons-grade pepper that made me suspect that the ‘Mace’ behind the restaurant’s name might actually be tear gas spray

It’s unfair to judge the vibe of a place on a Saturday afternoon (especially when it only opens at 4.30pm) but we couldn’t help but notice that Akbar’s next door was positively heaving. In total contrast, our family of four were the only punters in Mace - always reassuring when you’re attempting an undercover visit with an oversized camera under your jacket.

It’s been simply fitted out with bright orange chairs and upholstered benches. In fact there’s so much orange in there, I was surprised the man from Del Monte wasn’t in there trying to squeeze it. The menu is straight down the line, in a ‘just name a typical curry and it’s in there’ kind of way. Mace has gone even further down the average, people-pleasing road by adding ‘Gourmet Burgers’ and steaks. To differentiate, they’ve added the strapline ‘Indian restaurant, bar, desserts’ boasting about their ‘Classic American Waffles, Crepes, Sundaes, Milkshakes - all made fresh!’

Gol Gappay

This was the clincher that made my daughter put down her device and agree to come with us. So when the waiter looked puzzled at our request for a list of milkshakes, mumbling, ‘er, I think we might be able to make you a mango one,’ she was a bit deflated. Things didn’t get any better when her request for a Gourmet Grilled Chicken Breast Burger (£5.95) was rejected as they ‘weren’t on today.’

It seems we’ve been spoilt by the recent influx of modern city centre Indian restaurants, with their second or third generation owners and their up-selling of more interesting street food, more gently aromatic spicing and their desire for ‘authenticity’. Mace seems keen to do away with all that nonsense and the needlessly flowery descriptions that come with it, and get back to the kind of old school, one dimensional Indian cooking of yesteryear. They’re hoping there’s room in the market for the straightforward undemanding curry house.

So what places like Indian Tiffin Room and Mughli colourfully call Pani Puri; ‘puffed hollow pastry mounds’ or ‘bite-sized explosions’, Mace simply and unceremoniously call Gol Gappay (£2.75); ‘crisp fried spheres stuffed with chickpeas, potatoes and tamarind’. They were fine, with the filling impressively packing a little punch above its weight. Same went for the Seekh Kebab (£3.25); two nicely grilled ground lamb skewers which my husband said compared favourably with the fancy duck ones we’d had at Trishna in London. That’s as far as the compliments went unfortunately.

Seekh kebab

If ‘Old School Favourites’ were what Mace were pushing, then I rolled my skirt above the knee, arranged my collection of scented erasers and prepared to get on the bus with exact change. King Prawn Vindaloo (£8.50 + £3 shellfish supplement) was the kind of lava-like dish of last century that makes your actual eyeballs sweat, with none of the sweet and sour subtleties of later incarnations.

Lamb Nihari (£10.95), a Sunday staple of slow-cooked lamb on the bone with a black pepper gravy, turned out to be a big steaming stew more liquid than solid, worthy of Mrs Miggins or whatever her Delhi equivalent might be. Here, they’d used weapons-grade pepper that made me suspect that the ‘Mace’ behind the restaurant’s name might actually be more tear gas spray and less ‘casing of nutmeg used as a delicate, aromatic spice’.

It was an actual physical effort to get through both main courses. My husband and I haven’t huffed and puffed or gone through this many tissues since our honeymoon.

King Prawn sizzle

Special Grill

Even the King Prawn Sizzle (£14.95) was too spicy for the girl who abandoned it in favour of my much needed Tandoori Roti (95p). The only truly satisfied member of our party was silently working his way through a Special Grill (£14.50) with two of each Spicy Chicken Wings, Seek Kebabs, Lamb Chops and pieces of Chicken Tikka - but then eight year old boys tend to favour straight down the line protein medleys.

Side dishes were better and I recommend any customers sober enough to require anything other than ‘Old School’ make a meal out of these. Chana Bjhaji (£6.50) was a good chickpea curry, slightly sweet from some unknown addition. Aloo Gobhi (£6.75, main image) was as well-flavoured as a tomatoey, cauliflower and potato curry should be, but would have benefitted from another twenty minutes cooking.

We didn’t bother with desserts, because we didn’t trust they actually existed beyond words. When looking for a ‘hook’ for this review, I decided to go with a straight-down-the-line post-boozer city centre curry house ('special discounts are available for parties of eight or more'). It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either, so I’ll leave you with the words of my eloquent husband who advised, ‘don’t say it was anything more than average, or you’ll look like a dick.’

Mace, Liverpool Road, Castlefield, M3 4AQ