We are the first table through the door, a little after 6pm on a late-winter Wednesday. It is still properly cold outside, but chef-owner Para asks us to leave the front door open.
He has just toasted fenugreek, and the room is thick with it, earthy and nutty, with a deep caramel edge that has apparently defeated the ventilation. Para welcomes us warmly, beanie still planted firmly on his head. The toasted fenugreek is just one of 180 spices, filed neatly in the kitchen at Tusa, which occupies the space that formerly housed Vincent and Muk Bar.
