I've always quite liked fish tanks in restaurants. Very soothing. But they are a bit like those boundary streets in Estate Agent-land which divide the 'hot' places to live from the not-so-hot.

Our main mistake, when we decided to head for the Bengal Brasserie in Goodramgate on a Friday night, was in not booking first.

It was only mid-evening, but when we turned up at the door and asked for a table for two we were confronted by a polite waiter in smart evening dress who inquired, with an air of determined inflexibility: "Have you booked?"

Well, no, I said, craning my neck to look inside. It was busy, certainly, but I could see at least a couple of tables that weren't occupied. They, he informed me, were reserved and the guests would be arriving shortly.

We stood in the doorway with that slightly crestfallen and humble air usual in such situations while he went away to consult with the head waiter.

"We have got one table," he informed us: and gestured us inside.

We trooped meekly through the tastefully-decorated room crowded with happy diners, towards the fish tank at the back. Behind it, cut off from the rest of the dining area by the tankful of translucent green water with a few golden fish swimming languidly in it, was indeed a table for two.

It was squeezed between the fish-tank and the fridge, next to the bar, with the corridor to the busy kitchen running directly past it. We debated saying no thanks but .... well, we were there now. So we handed our coats over and sat down.

Now, if you're an observer of odd human behaviour, behind the fish-tank at the Bengal Brasserie is a great place to sit.

You have an unrestricted view of the stream of people turning up at the bar or to order a takeaway, and a chance to eavesdrop on some of their conversations.

Most of those, for some reason, took place over mobile phones. I wasn't deliberately trying to listen, you understand, but I couldn't help overhearing one chap enquiring peevishly into his mobile: "Hello? Why are you in bed?"

Then my poppadoms arrived, and all else was forgotten.

I'm a sucker for Indian (or should I say Bengali?) food - and the food at the Bengal's about as good as it gets.

Three fresh poppadoms with a range of tasty pickles between us for starters, washed down by a pint of Stella for me and an orange juice for Lili, and then we got down to business.

We ordered a single dish of onion bhajis for appetisers, and shared them between us. They arrived garnished with a slice of lemon in a squeezer: tasty, tender and not too heavy, the lemon juice adding a wonderful freshness and zest.

Then it was on to main courses. I opted for the Gosht Bengal - one of the house specialities, lamb cooked in mild spices. It was deliciously tender and at the first mouthful I thought a little flat in taste. But it's one of those dishes you need to linger over: and the more you do, the more the subtle flavours make themselves apparent. Wonderful.

Lili's Chicken Tikka Balti was spicier and more up-front, but less subtle: and on the whole I thought I'd done the better.

We chose plain boiled rice and a side dish of sag aloo: potato and spinach to you and me. And to round the meal off, we ordered a single naan bread.

I could write an essay about that naan. It arrived steaming, fresh, light and moist. I could have eaten nothing but naan that evening and gone away a happy man.

We couldn't anywhere near finish, even though I stuffed myself to repletion. Desserts weren't even an option.

The cost of this feast? £29.15, excluding service.

Great food. Just make sure you book first. Unless, that is, you like fish tanks.

The Bengal Brasserie, 21 Goodramgate, York. Tel: 01904 613131