The Crossing Indian Bistro – A Grand Launch Party
The Indian food scene in London is one that is hard to break into. From upmarket chain restaurants, to the Indian gastropubs fusing food cultures, and obviously not forgetting curry houses, there is very little room left here for innovation. Growing up in the London Borough of Ealing, a place with one of the largest Indian communities outside of India, I’ve spent years of my life trying a range of starters, mains and desserts. I know what I like, and admittedly, it was going to take a lot to impress me. A new Indian restaurant opening in my backyard is nothing new, but it exceeded my expectations.
On the site of what was formerly a Carluccio’s, The Crossing Indian Bistro sits behind the busy streets of Ealing Broadway and a stone’s throw away from Pitzhanger Manor & Gallery. The Ealing location is the fourth instalment of The Crossing, created by chef and restaurateur Ankur Chakraborty, his first London establishment, following success in Leeds, and across the pond in Paris and Nice, France. All four restaurants average a 4.9-star rating on Google.
But before I could even try some of the food, I just had to know why The Crossing was opening in zone 3, in a suburb? Chef Ankur had thought about this carefully:
“One of the things that I have always been blessed by is the support of local communities. We are not in a city centre [at their Leeds branch]. Zone 3 is where the people who work in Central London live. I wanted to create a community [in] which they can actually go out and have a good time, rather than trying to get a similar experience in Central London. There is a nice community of people living right here, the location has a great feel.”
And he’s right, Ealing does have a great community, if I do say so myself. Though it is also full of all kinds of Indian restaurants. Chef Ankur acknowledged this, but also made it clear that he’s found himself a niche in this busy market:
“It was difficult to bring anything new here. But then we started to get a lot of visitors from London to our Paris and Nice restaurants. That prompted me to think, why are they saying this? Then I started eating out in London. I realised the kind of food we do is what we eat at home in India. I wanted to give a breath of fresh air into what Indian food could be. My father worked in the railways, and I have travelled the length and breadth of India. Most Indian restaurants in the UK pick dishes from one particular part of India. My menu is small, but it takes dishes from all over India.”
The Indian railways provide the stylistic basis for the interior of the restaurant. The walls are adorned with photographs, some taken by Chef Ankur himself, and the colour palette of the furnishings is inspired by Indian railway wagons. All aspects of the design are intentional, to pay homage to the way in which rail travel has shaped food culture. The space feels warm and fancy, though the menu prices are what I would consider great value for somewhere that emulates an appearance of luxury.
Chef Ankur’s menu for the night featured a display of some of his favourite items, and ones that he does best. I do not eat shellfish, and neither did my companion for the night, but we tried almost everything else that came around.
Upon arrival, guests were encouraged to head to the bar to tuck into phuchka, more commonly known as panipuri, crispy wheat balls filled with spiced potato and topped with either mango or tamarind water. For starters, nibbles of chicken tikka, grilled prawns and fried yoghurt balls went around the room, the latter of which I had never tried before, and had a texture similar to cream cheese. I kept going back for more. The chicken tikka was seasoned with black masala, creating a darker and smokier flavour than others I had previously tried, one I thoroughly enjoyed.
For mains, waiters brought out small plates of gucchi (morel and mushroom) pulao with pomegranate raita, butter chicken with crispy naan shavings, Alleppey prawns curry with basmati rice and seabass grilled in banana leaf. Now I normally refuse mushrooms in any form, but their texture was meaty in the company of rice. The pomegranate was perfectly sweet and complementary. Butter chicken is a popular dish in global Indian restaurants, and was lovely as ever, though I’ve never found butter chicken unenjoyable. The sea bass was juicy and flaky.
When I asked Chef Ankur for three of his must-try dishes, he said Alleppey prawns curry, Kerala fried chicken, and railway lamb curry, two of which weren’t on the menu for the night, but I certainly would like to try. But we did get to sample his favourite dessert, mango serradura, which he told me I couldn’t leave before trying.
“It represents Crossing so very well. Serradura is a Goan dessert, and Goa was a Portuguese colony, which this dish comes out of. It almost feels like a tiramisu. So, it’s basically fine biscuit crumbs with a whipped cream/cream cheese, but India adapted that with mangoes. One of my favourites.”
And I definitely understand why he loves it so much. The first bite was rich and sweet, and I immediately noticed the sugar in the cream. Only then did I taste the cream cheese notes he mentioned, their heaviness contrasting the light mango. I could have easily eaten many more of them. This was yet another area in which Chef Ankur was a true professional, balancing his flavours, ensuring no extremities in any of his dishes. Every bite was a pleasant experience.
But what I wasn’t expecting from the dessert menu was to try a combination of two of my most loved puddings, rasmalai and tres leches cake. Rasmalai is an Indian dessert, typically made with cheese discs, soaked in milk and various flavourings, while tres leches is a Latin American sponge cake, also soaked in milks and topped with whipped cream.
The fusion dish took the cardamom and saffron from rasmalai and added them to the sponge and milk from tres leches, respectively. Topped with whipped cream, even more saffron and pistachio sprinkles, the cake was heavenly. The saffron added a custard-like flavour to the milk, and the sponge was soft and delicate. Also on the menu is a version of my favourite British dessert, sticky toffee pudding, which I’ll definitely be ordering next time, after enjoying the tremendous quality in the other treats I tried.
In terms of prices, the average starter or small plate costs £6.40, a main curry or grill averages £12.15, sides are around £5.10, breads on average are £3.40, and desserts come in around £6.40 also. If someone were to order one of each of these items, they could probably expect their meal to cost between £30 and £40. For food of such a high quality, I’d say this is more than reasonable. This is a place for occasion, one that understands its purpose, but won’t set the casual diner back from ever returning.
The Crossing situates itself well in a crowded market. It is a restaurant that aims to showcase hundreds of years of history and geography through flavour, and a national perspective. And somehow, a small menu manages to reflect the differing food cultures from throughout India, be it with small plates, grills, curries or desserts. After such great success at its other locations, I hope it sees the same enthusiasm and support from Londoners.
Edited by Isabella Lindudottir, Deputy Editor-in-Chief
Comments