We went to a French curry house but it didn't hit the spot

When I moved to France, I didn’t give curry a second thought. I was thrilled to be eating croissants and steak frites. 

It didn’t hit me for months that there was no Indian restaurant within 200km of my new home. Then suddenly it was winter – so where was the curry? 

A three-hour drive away? Yikes! Worse, there was not even a shop selling the necessary ingredients to make my own curry at home. To a Londoner born and bred, it came as a shock. 

I made all the classic French winter dishes: boeuf bourguignon, daube and parmentier de confit de canard – all very delicious, but none of them quite hit the spot. 

So I took action, and learned how to work round the gaps on my spice shelf until rescue arrived in the form of generous visitors bearing spices, poppadoms, and garlic naans. Eventually, I learned to make most of the recipes in Madhur Jaffrey's Indian Cookery, and life went back to normal. 

In the intervening decades, more Indian restaurants have opened in France and I’ve tried out a few. 

Generally speaking, they are not very good. But I’ve been craving curry recently (there’s nothing more warming than rogan josh, or perhaps butter chicken, or a nice bowl of lamb madras) and, as we were feeling lazy, we decided to venture out to Limoges to find one.

Dear oh dear: curry with no hint of chilli at all; starters of watery steamed aubergine and no free poppadoms; lassi the consistency and colour of neon yellow road paint; a lamb dish featuring sauce that didn’t taste of lamb and meat that didn’t taste saucy; a strong suspicion that the kitchen contained several pots of cold roast meat and several more of sauce, which could be 'combined' at will to 'make' the dishes on the menu; no dahl; no onion bhajis. 

Worse was to come. Our main courses came on square plates, each containing a ball of basmati rice, a puddle of 'curry' and a side serving of tinned green beans. The staff were so anxious to please, so super-smiley and helpful that we didn’t have the heart to complain. 

Sadly I have never been to India, but people who have always come back saying that the food served in Indian restaurants in the UK is not really authentic. 

They say that the dishes have been adapted to suit British tastes. Some dishes, in fact, are reputed to have been invented in the UK, such as chicken tikka masala and balti. They don’t even exist in India! 

So I suppose it is only fair that Indian restaurants in France adapt their recipes to appeal to a French clientele – even if that does mean adding tinned French beans.

I have learned my lesson. We have ordered the Dishoom cookbook for inspiration and education, because apart from anything else their slow-cooked, black lentil dahl is manna from heaven. 

We shall be cooking our own curries this winter. All I need is a shop selling ground cardamom.