Food & Drink

Beginning of article

I WAS VERY taken with the idea of having dinner at the India Club in the Strand. The name conjured up cool white marble, slowly turning fans, even the possibility of a chota peg being brought to me on a silver tray by the man in the old Air India advertisement with upswept moustaches and a turban.

I put on a suit, found my old Gridiron Club tie from Oxford days, and we arrived in the Strand punctually at eight o'clock. The Club was on the south side, just across from the BBC World Service at Bush House and the Indian High Commission.

My first real doubts came when I saw that the entrance was up a narrow flight of stairs with a hand-painted notice …