Restaurant Review: Ziya Asian Grill, Rusholme

There are few things more likely to make me feel nostalgic than a trip to Rusholme. I lived here for four years, first as a student and then as a penniless graduate, and I loved it - loved its lights, and its buzz, and its shops filled with beautiful pink sweets and, of course, its ever tolerant curry houses, patiently welcoming us after a boozy night out and turning a blind eye to the fact that we would spend about £3 a head over a period of approximately four hours. And then, I grew up and got a job - a real one - and stopped going. Part of this was laziness - I'd moved to Didsbury and had decent curry houses on my doorstep - but part was a sense that its delights had faded for someone who no longer needed to eke out a basket of poppadums over three hours with twelve of their mates.

Anyway, I'm back. You've all known about Mughli for some time, that ferociously successful and ever-excellent Wilmslow Road institution, now expanding into other parts of town to sate its baying public. And it turns out that some of you also knew about Ziya Asian Grill just across the road, quietly garnering an excellent reputation over the last 18 months or so whilst I remained unaware of its charms; I've found it now though, and found much there that will lure me back on a regular basis.

First off, the venue is a good one, spanning three floors (the uppermost of which is available for private hire - it seats 30 and is pictured above), with an open kitchen (by which we choose to sit) and a fresh, clean, open feel. Secondly, the staff are ace - they happily share a box of Indian sweets they'd been given by the manager as a gift with us, polite smiles remaining in place as we snarf the lot. Thirdly, the drinks list is a well-chosen one, offering some excellent cocktails (more of these later) and some decent wines (we share a bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon that arrives suitably chilled and which matches the spice in the food beautifully). All of this means nothing, though, if the food is average - in the face of so much competition on the Curry Mile, it needs to be exceptional, particularly as the prices are dearer here than at some of their more bargainous neighbours (although interestingly, they are much in line with The Place Across the Road).

And the food is very good indeed. We allow the manager Devang to choose for us; a wise move as it turns out. Poppadums arrive promptly, already broken into bite-size pieces (the lazy girl's dream) and accompanied by a tray of chutneys which include a nice spicy onion as well as a tart coriander dip that I proceed to slather over the entirety of my dinner. For my starter, I request something meaty and am duly provided with an almighty Tandoori platter consisting of Chicken Bites, Lamb Kebabs & Peshwari Lamb Chop, each succulent and well flavoured, particularly the chop. They are fastidious about using fresh produce every day rather than anything frozen, and it shows. For my date, I've brought along The Awkward Friend, who doesn't like things too hot and who is sensitive to dairy - Devang's solution is a starter-sized portion of the Chilli Garlic Fish from the main menu (sea bass fillet coated with fresh spices, green chillies and garlic, pan grilled and served with dosai potatoes) and the recommendation is 100% spot on. The unexpected highlight of Round One though is a portion of Szechuan chips from the lunch menu that are brought to us unbidden to try - they are astonishing, hot and spicy and flecked with cashew nuts, and I will need to have them every time I go even if this means crying in front of the chef.

For mains I request a fish curry of some description and the recommendation is instant - the Goan Fish Curry, with tamarind and coconut milk, is clearly something of a favourite here. Little wonder, really - the fish remains chunky rather than disintegrating and the whole affair has a freshness and lightness unusual in such a rich dish. I also desire something spinachy and have a portion of Saag Paneer on the side; spicing and texture is perfect, but the amount of cheese in the dish makes it very substantial - this is definitely a main rather than a side, even for a greedy girl. The Awkward Friend hits the jackpot again with the Rahara Lamb - chunks of meat cooked alongside minced lamb to give a really unusual texture. We also have some plain rice and the world's prettiest naan bread, the layered textures of which means it isn't as heavy or as filling as is often the case.

Despite this, we are of course full by now, and a waitress who has clearly seen such gluttony many times before cheerfully packages up our leftovers for us to take home. For dessert we each have a cocktail perched at the bar - these are on the pricey side at £7.95 a pop, but they don't fall into the trap of being too sweet and they pack a nice boozy punch, so it's hard to imagine not having one for dessert on future visits. My Fig and Ginger Dakka (pictured here with the tall, fruity Bollywood Smash) was perfect - I am particularly fond of both these flavours and am delighted to find them in a cocktail for ease of consumption.

All in all, we really liked Ziya. This was a complimentary meal as we were invited in to review, but I am already in the process of organising a weekend visit as paying customers for a number of friends who now want to go, having seen the photos I thoughtlessly plastered all over Facebook. And those leftovers? Even better the next day.

- Ziya Asian Grill is at 65-67 Wilmslow Rd, Manchester M14 5TB; telephone 0161 257 2010.

Reliving Student Days of Yore at Shahenshah, Rusholme

Often, the unplanned nights out end up being the most enjoyable. Particularly those that come with a healthy dose of nostalgia; indeed, for most of Friday I was located somewhere in the mid-1990s, and having a thoroughly lovely time.

First I got to relive my academic career at Manchester University by taking a party of students to the Discover English Day at the Roscoe Building, a full day of talks and lectures that obviously I enjoyed far more than some of the students, pushing my way through the adolescent ranks to take my rightful place at the front of the class with my new Paperchase notebook. By 4pm I had more than earned a Friday beer, and where better than sitting outside KroBar with a lovely friend who works at the University, enjoying the Manchester sunshine (and trying hard to pretend I wasn't clutching an A4 folder entitled "Welcome to the University of Manchester" - slightly beer stained now).

Three beers later, and my friend was replaced by a hot and bothered (and slightly cross) husband, who had apparently trailed all over Manchester checking in ALL the KroBars for his errant wife, who, being advanced in years, had failed to realise quite how many variations there now are on the Kro theme. In my day - shifts Zimmerframe slightly and readjusts blanket over knees - there was only one, hence the confusion. Such discontent was soon smoothed over, and as it was such a lovely evening we decided to walk part of the way home; this was our second mistake. It is clinically impossible to walk through Rusholme at meal time and emerge unscathed on the other side; one of the curry houses, with their lovely tempting aromas and twinkly waiters lurking outside, ready to lure you in with promise of free poppadoms, will get you in the end.

On Friday it was Shahenshah. To be honest, we had to go in, for my husband made the startling confession that he had NEVER EATEN THERE. And then, when I thought about it, I realised that I probably hadn't eaten there for about ten years, and therefore was in no position to mock. Shahenshah was our student restaurant of choice, largely (I suspect) because they would let us eat there no matter how drunk we were, although I do recall that the drunker you were, the more likely you were to be hidden away upstairs, so as not to cause offence. Was the food there actually any good? Or were my rosy memories about to be shattered?

Hurrah; the food was amazing. My starter of Aubergine Pakora - four generous slices of meltingly soft vegetable (N.B. vegetable, therefore healthy) in light and crispy batter - was delicious, as was the Chicken Chilli starter across the way. Even better were the mains; my Chicken Punjabi was the best curry I've had for ages - bear in mind this was my second curry in three days, so this recommendation does actually say quite a lot - and my husband's main was polished off so quickly I can't even remember what it was. Prices are reasonable, and wine particularly so - we had a very drinkable bottle of Chilean Merlot that was under £10.

Shahenshah tends to get slightly mixed reviews from its diners, and has had some unfortunate brushes with environmental health issues in the past; on this form, however, we will certainly be back. My only criticism? Don't tell the waiter that the chairs are heavy as you struggle to pull it out from under the table, as he will tell you the same line that he told me and EVERY OTHER WOMAN within earshot during the course of the evening - some new jokes please!

- Shahenshah is at 135 Wilmslow Road, Rusholme, Manchester M14 5AW; tel 0161 2572534.

Top Curry at The Third Eye, Didsbury

When I was a student I lived in Rusholme, in a big drafty flat with luridly coloured mould growing up one wall and a small family of mice living in the kitchen. I also had a profound dislike for curry. I was the one who would shame-facedly order chicken and chips off the English menu, flinching slightly if anyone else's jalfrezi came near me, feeling left out and miserable.

By the time I moved out of Rusholme four years later, I was of course a curry convert, and my obsession is now such that I have to have my fix at least once a week lest withdrawal symptoms begin. I must admit to hardly ever going to Rusholme these days, although if I ever drive along that section of Wilmslow Road I am practically slavering by the time I've driven out again. The main problem with Rusholme, I find, is that I am too stupid to actually remember which curry houses there are the best ones; in other words, I get confused by the array of neon-lit facades and lose the ability to recall which might be my favourite.

Luckily, South Manchester is well served with curry houses. Last night I was out with a friend known both for his fearsome drinking ability and his great love of curry, so walking into Didsbury seemed a sensible option. Despite the cold and the drizzle, Didsbury was busier than I've seen it for a while; we started at The Fletcher Moss, which is always pleasantly buzzy but was particularly cheery last night, full of affable types drinking pints of mild and perusing the books that are always on sale here in aid of Francis House Hospice (honestly, you wouldn't believe the amount of rubbish I've bought here during a night out).

Our next venue, The Dog and Partridge, was less enjoyable: the combination of a sulky barmaid with a large table of braying loudmouths next to us meant the atmosphere was a little less convivial. I do recall having a quite detailed conversation here about my theory of Brian May - that he would have been taken a lot more seriously a whole lot earlier if he'd only cut his hair. Thoughts on this please?

Our final destination was The Third Eye, where they found us a table immediately and plied us with poppadoms in that sneaky way that curry houses have. The food here is excellent, and while it used to be a slightly poor second to the mighty Great Kathmandu in terms of local Nepalese restaurants, it has now not only caught up but apparently overtaken the Kathmandu if recent reviews are to be believed.

I had the Chicken Pakoda Fritters to start but actually ended up eating most of my husband's Paneer Chilli as well, and then the Makhan Fish for main (with the calories of the rich creamy sauce completely atoned for by my selection of fish rather than meat, obviously). The real star of the table, however, was the humble Vegetable Rice - we ordered two portions between the three of us, but the mountain of rice that arrived would easily have fed about six people. As the plate ended up next to me on the table (fools!) I was able to fork out all the highlights - enormous pieces of silky aubergine, cashew nuts, great lumps of cauliflower etc - with relatively little chance of discovery or retribution.

The bill was £55 for the three of us - pretty reasonable for such a repast, and no need for a taxi home. The rate I'm going, I may never end up leaving South Manchester again...I will try to do better, I promise.