The Spice Club, 1-3 Monkgate, York

"I DON'T care what it's like - you can never go wrong with a cuzzah." So decared an old friend while entering a grimy backstreet curry-house in darkest Manchester.

This assertion came after a long day in the pub, with a barrelful of booze swilling around an otherwise empty stomach, and in such circumstances it would often ring true - as groups of beery blokes (and birds) up and down the country would testify.

But, while spicy food is often the perfect complement to a belly load of beer, there has always been much more to Indian restaurants than post-pub fodder, and, contrary to what my drunken mate bawled, I'd argue that when taste buds have not been numbed by alcohol, it's easy to know a good curry from a not-so-good one.

For what it's worth, Louise and I were perfectly sober on Wednesday when we visited the Spice Club, which opened two months ago on Monkgate, right under Monkbar.

(We had also been sober when we turned up on Tuesday, only to discover that was the one day in the week the place is closed.)

Anyway, when we entered at about 8pm, we were immediately offered a table for two and ushered through the small but plush bar area to the dining zone, which was pretty full despite it being midweek.

We were given a choice of tables and as we sat down at a four-seater (yes, there were only two of us, but the extra space always comes in handy), another couple arrived, meaning that of the dozen or so tables, all but two were in use.

We ordered a bottle of house red (£9.95) and got a Chilean cabernet sauvignon, which had "a blackcurrant aroma and a hint of mint". Lou liked it a lot and, while I wasn't taken by the mint, it went down well. We also asked for a jug of water and were given a big chilled bottle with a slice of lemon.

The Spice Club is run by the Jinnah chain which also has eateries in Flaxton, Harrogate and on Micklegate, as well as the nearby Viceroy - which, for many Yorkies, is rated the number one curry-house in the city. As such, I expected to see a similar menu to that at the Viceroy, but there were several new choices as well as some old favourites.

We began with two popadoms (60p) each, which came with five assorted pickles (£1.75) - all of which were fine, although I found the lime chutney a bit sickly - and I also tried a chicken chaatt (£3.25) as a starter.

This was served virtually alongside the popadoms, which was good for me because it meant Louise wasn't sitting watching me eat, and even better for her as she got more popadom. Still, I wasn't complaining - the chaatt was fantastic. Reddish in colour, the chicken, served on a chapati, had a sweet and sour taste with enough spice to give it a kick.

For the main course, I chose the Nepalese-style chicken, given it would be something new - but the waiter reckoned this curry wasn't that exciting and, after going through my taste preferences, we concluded I should try a "reasonably hot" lamb hasina (£9.95) from the homestyle speciality section.

Now, for me, there's always a mystical thing about curries. The descriptions often refer to a "special blend of spices" or some such line, and I'm rarely able to tell what spices are in there. I either like it or I don't like it as much. This I liked. A lot.

The lamb was well cooked and the sauce, with garlic, capsicum, ginger, green chillies and spinach aplenty, was spicy, tangy and tasty in equal measure.

For pescavores and herbivores, there were ten fish and eight vegetarian dishes, one of which was the special vegetable karahi (£7.95), which Louise chose.

It had a tomato/onion sauce and, while the serving dish seemed to swim in oil at the end, Lou was mightily impressed with the flavour.

We shared a mushroom pilau (£2.50) and peshwari naan (£.2.50), both good quality, and we were stuffed. However, the idea of refreshing the palate with a sorbet from the list of puddings was too tempting.

I had the "flute limoncello"(£3.50), a lemon sorbet with a dash of lemon liquor, while Lou had the more complicated "tropical mango" sorbet (£3.50), which came with a chilled raspberry and slice of Kiwi fruit on top, and a bed of coconut ice cream, which had a bit of meringue in the middle.

It all came to £47 and was impeccably served, with the pause between courses timed to perfection.

The dcor, complete with comfy new take-your-shoes-off carpet, was simple but stylish and, despite the contemporary cutlery and crockery, it still felt like an Indian with old-fashioned values.

Never go wrong with a curry? I'll have to drag my idiot mate to the Spice Club so he can learn where he'd go right.

Pete visited The Spice Club on Wednesday, April 19, 2006

The Spice Club, 1-3 Monkgate, York

Updated: 09:00 Saturday, April 22, 2006