I can't even. There are no words to describe how tasty this place is. I remember having an opinion on decor and location in precisely the way one remembers their first time eating cake. It's buried deep inside somewhere but it's really kinda a blur burned into my mind by the stories told after the fact.
Quaint? Not huge. There may have been a patio? All I remember is eating the best vindaloo of my life, then there was garlic naan, and some kind of blood sausage, and these existential dumplings. There was paneer in there. The naan never stopped flowing and and at the end I was handed a bill which I paid happily, knowing what it was to have transcended heaven and earth, to slip the bounds of mere mortality and joined eternity among a small ceramic ramicam of hot chilli sauce.
I think I paid cash? Might have been my immortal soul. Not sure. Either way I was impressed by the value.
Also the table next to us had pakora which looked really really good. I'm going to try that next time.