Why am I here? Because Angela Hartnett told me to come
With all the restaurants in all the land to turn our attention to – the arrogant, multi-Michelined temples of gastronomy, the hip new Thai semi-pop-up, the authentic Sicilian operating out of a Brixton shipping container– why the hell am I here? What am I doing stoating along a traffic-clogged Surrey highway to a tiny strip of shops in unexciting Ewell? (Sorry, Ewellites, but you know it’s true.) Because Angela Hartnett told me to, that’s why. And when Hartnett, one of our undisputed culinary queens, gives me a hot restaurant tip, my ears prick up like a cat scenting a rodent.
Dastaan’s location is the very essence of suburbia. I mean, we’re just a bhaji’s-throw from Surbiton (and, yes, you can read that as being loaded with the full metropolitan elite snootiness, if you like). There’s a definite sense of crowd-pleasing, too: our cheery, suited server is thrilled about the place’s ranking on the dreaded Tripadvisor for Epsom. When my entirely female table asks for recommendations, we’re immediately steered towards vegetable samosas and butter chicken. You can almost hear him trying not to say “for the laydeez”.
Related: Lorne, London SW1: ‘A soothing place to be’ – restaurant review
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