‘Work, work work. That’s all you ever seem to do these days, Tec.”

I had just stepped in through the front door when The Moll’s dulcet tones reached my ears.

“Gimme a break.” I snapped.

“Those new dresses don’t come cheap. Never mind the 20 pairs of stilettos you’ve been eyeing up all month. And if you mention anything about fur coats in the next 48 hours I’ll scream.”

I sighed and sat down on the Chesterfield, pouring myself a whisky as my aching body sank into the cushions.

Toots was right though. I HAD been working. I’d been working so much the only time I hadn’t been was when I was sleeping. I was drained. The bags under my eyes were growing bigger and bigger, and my temper subsequently was getting shorter and shorter. Something had to change.

“I’m sorry, darling…” I muttered, in as sweet a voice as I could muster.

She was having none of it. She sat sulking in the corner, her eyes almost bulging out of her head. Her face had gone that all-too familiar scarlet colour, matching her dress, nail polish and…ANOTHER new pair of heels.

“You’re absolutely right.” I said quickly, pleadingly.

“I am working, too much perhaps. And I’ve not been paying you enough attention. I know how to make it up to you though…”

The redness in her face faded ever so slightly, but she stayed silent, still staring at me. I could see she was intrigued.

We took a cab to Park Road in the West End, whooshing through leafy Kelvin Way and its rows of towering, ancient trees. I hoped toots would forgive my outburst when she saw where we were headed.

Stepping out in front of the grand-looking Shish Mahal, Toots’ eyes lit up.

“Well, if it invented something so famous then it must be good.” she said sharply as we looked at the sign plastered on the outside of the Woodlands restaurant.

She was referring to the Chicken Tikka Masala, which was created at this very restaurant by its founder Ali Ahmed Aslam in the 1970s.

The place describes itself as a Glasgow dynasty, so I thought it more than fitting to take Your Highness.

A surly looking waiter took us to a table in the back corner of the large ornate room. We sat down on the squashy, high-backed chairs and browsed the enormous menu. It took about 20 minutes just to read through the extensive list - everything you could imagine was on there.

I ordered two Cobra beers, along with poppadoms, spiced onions and mixed pickle to start off with. My stomach was rumbling a bit now so I was glad it came in a flash, followed by a steaming plate of mixed pakora – fish, mushroom, onion and chicken. As I bit in to the moist, spiced chicken I felt my senses spring to life. The mixed pickle with the crispy poppadoms set my tastebuds tingling with delight.

ButterLamb was next in line for me. Usually a light, spiced and creamy dish, it was one of my favourite curries of all time. But at Shish Mahal it wasn’t quite was I had been expecting. The sauce, a bright orange colour, was thick with pools of orange oil swimming on top. The lamb was moist, but the meal felt like it sat in the pit of my stomach for hours afterwards.

I had also ordered a spiced rice, described as a “gift from Punjab” on the menu. However the waiter dismissed my explanations of the order, and told me it was the same as the plain rice anyway. We were not amused. I could see Dollface quickly turning red again.

Her main course, although better than mine, was “standard scran”, as she eloquently put it. "Sweet, tasty, but nothing special.”

It didn’t stop her wolfing down the majority, along with a further two beers.

We left feeling heavier in the stomach, much lighter in the wallet, but not incredibly satisfied. Maybe we should have stuck to the famous Tikka Masala.

Shish Mahal, 60-68 Park Road

0141 334 1057


Food - 2

Atmosphere - 3

Service - 3

Starters: Poppadums, Spiced Onion and Lime Pickle - £2.95

Mixed pakora - £5.50


Butter Lamb - £10.50

Chicken Chili Basaar - £10.50


Rice x 2- £4.30

Nan bread - £2.25

Pratha - £2.25


Cobra beer x 4 - £16.45