Thamel is a Nepalese restaurant, named after an area in Kathmandu, on the large curvy corner where East London Street meets Broughton Street. The site is remembered for once being a launderette and, from memory, it has also housed The Lost Sock Diner, Bella Mbriana, and The Riparian. None of these eateries have stuck but Thamel is turning tables when we visit like a street hawker dealing hash to seventies hippies in the eponymous tourist district of Kathmandu.
It’s an icy night, so we welcome the warm decor evoking sun-dried spices: chilli-coloured walls, turmeric and cardamom-hued light shades, and mint green plastic foliage.
My dining partner and I are recovering from winter ills, so we ordered non-alcoholic drinks. I have a zero-zero Heineken while Connie's mocktail is a complex Seedlip-based Gimlet in a hammered copper cup.
Thamel is a convivial place to catch up with an old pal. We order Fish Poori (tacos) from the small plate selection to pique our appetite. They are served upright in a stainless steel rack and the filling is wrapped in soft chapati rather than in a crisp tortilla. Fatty salmon cubes are balanced by herbs and mint chutney. Portions are generous, so this shared starter proves plenty and when we are served our Kathmandu Lamb and Manchurian Chicken Chilli we note (top tip) that one portion would again feed two, especially with sides.
My Kathmandu curry is cooked in a sauce of spinach, lentils, and whole spices. The gravy is rich but offset by the addition of subtle piquant pickles, which add an off-piste flavour dimension. A deep umami-like comforting deliciousness is the result, and I would be hard-pressed not to order it again. Flavours are gently blended, and the only fierceness in Thamel is the tiger emblem.
Bounteous glossy chunks of chicken in Connie’s dish are jumbled with fruity red bell peppers and onions, and she comments that if you shut your eyes, it would be a challenge to call Indian or Chinese. This Indo-Chinese touch is scarce but present, adding interest to a quite complex and exciting menu. There is a wide range of spices and herbs used, and we comment more than once as we read the details of dishes that we don’t know what a certain ingredient is. I note that Chow Mein is offered at lunchtime.
My antennae prick up when cocktails are served to the next table. One is a smoky potion in a glass with a handle that curls like a serpent. Very theatrical. Relaxed Bossa Nova tunes meanwhile are the langurous soundtrack to our evening.
We decide to share a subcontinental twist on Tiramisu: thick cream, a very moist sponge and chai syrup with a pretty purple violet as garnish. It is in no way Italian, but it does pick us up for the walk home as someone is waiting for our table - lucky devils.
I would happily eat at Thamel all over again; it is a warm, colourful, cheerful restaurant that caters to all tastes, whether you are drinking, not drinking, carnivore, pescatarian, vegetarian or vegan. It is also an example of the elevated standards of cuisine that we are lucky enough to enjoy in contemporary Edinburgh.
