Food review: Pondicherry, Ironbridge

There are few places as beautiful as Ironbridge in summer. Shropshire's most historic town is idyllic. Its steepling banks fall gracefully toward the River Severn, which wends a mazy route through an Ice Age-carved valley.

It's the birthplace of industry and a UNESCO World Heritage Site, with Abraham Darby I's Iron Bridge redolent of a bygone era. The structure was a phenomenal feat of engineering and is now a Grade I listed building and Scheduled Ancient Monument. The totemic structure remains magnificent. It shows our beautiful, verdant county at its very best.

Ironbridge has more history than just its bridge and Pondicherry, the town's Indian restaurant, is located in a former police station and court house. The building was one of the first permanent police stations in the UK and some of the original features remain. The upstairs dining area, for instance, is a converted court room and offers a unique dining experience.

The Pondicherry's reputation has spread far and wide and it's a port of call for the great and the good as they pass through our region. Snooker commentator Willie Thorne, multiple World Champion Ronnie O'Sullivan, ex-boxer Nigel Benn and others have visited the restaurant – and posed for cliché photographs – during visits to the county.

The venue's out-of-date website – c'mon guys, add the information when you get a minute – also shows pictures of other supposedly famous people. And in a world of vacuity, reality TV shows and instant fame, I have absolutely no idea who they are. And life is all the better for that.

History, celebrity associations and other gloss, however, is meaningless if the food and service doesn't pass muster. And, happily, at Pondicherry both do. That's not to say it's a stand-out venue.

Though Pondicherry makes all the right noises about fine dining and gourmet food, in reality it is a better-than-average neighbourhood curry house. Standards are higher than at most, presentation is fine and flavours are well judged.

Pondicherry does offer more flare than most. My onion bhaji was served with a fruit salad, rather than side salad, and the contrast between hot, spicy onion and cool, sweet fruit was welcome.

It would have been even more welcome if the fruit salad had been substantial. It was served microscopically, as though a Lilliputian might be eating it. Half a grape was served alongside a single cherry and a thin sliver of kiwi fruit. I kind of wondered this: what happened to the other half of the grape. Did the chef get peckish and eat it? Was it saved in case another customer wanted an onion bhaji so they could save on grape costs? Did the chef drop it on the floor then cast it into the bin? Where, in Shaun Ryder's name, was the other grape?

The bhaji, incidentally, was so-so. It was a little stodgy and lacked any crispness, though the flavour was good. Far better was the chicken pakora that was delicately spicy and had a pleasing heat.

But I've skipped ahead and missed the place where all the best reviews start: The Beginning. Dinner began with poppadoms. They were soft, rather than crunchy, like a packet of Walker's cheese and onion crisps that have been left open overnight before being eaten as a Champion's Breakfast. Meh. That's what the poppadoms were. The dips were fine, however.

The chef came into his own with a couple of decent mains.

Pondicherry offers an impressive selection of signature dishes that combine the best of local ingredients with authentic cooking techniques.

So a lamb saag mamyam features local Staffordshire lamb braised with baby spinach leaves and finished with Indian sipces; a Pondicherry kebab includes diced pieces of fillet steak marinated in spices; and a nalli gosht comprises a lamb shank left to marinate in naturally tenderising yoghurt, with cumin and fresh coriander.

I opted for a handi mahe, a dryish curry packed with uniquely aromatic Pakistani flavours. The chicken was tender, the spices mild and well-judged, the sauce tomato-ey and rich. A roti served alongside the mahe provided a pleasant accompaniment, though the side salad was dull and the timbale of rice was a little greasy. The chicken tikka biryani was delightful. Moist pieces of flavoursome tikka were surrounded by rice, spices and onion in a light and well-executed dish.

Service was good throughout. The restaurant manager was polite and authoritative and the two waiters who visited my table were engaging and warm. Both did a good job of making me feel welcome without being invasive or pushy.

The atmosphere in the dining room was warm and at other tables the waiters engaged in longer conversations with regulars, making jokes and catching up on relevant news.

After dinner, I made the most of Ironbridge, strolling briefly through the gorge before making an exit.

Pondicherry's food had been a notch above that available at cheap'n'cheerful neighbourhood curry houses, but, in my view, not to the same standard as the county's finest.

In no way could it have been construed as fine dining and the micro fruit salad was just plain funny.

Half a grape does not a gourmand make. But that's just my opinion.

However, it's a decent venue in a town whose culinary fortunes have been on the up.

The town now has a number of fair-to-decent eating choices, where reasonable food is on offer at value prices.

Would it be worth the drive if the only attraction was a biryani and chicken pakora? In my opinion, probably not.

But then in a world that predicates itself on location, location, location, it's a decent stop-off. For those visiting one of Shropshire's most bedazzling towns, it doesn't disappoint.

Three-and-a-half out of five is a mark that says 'above average but not necessarily brilliant' – and that pithy six-word assessment pretty much covers the experience at Pondicherry.

By Andy Richardson