Of the classic curry house curries — your jalfrezis, your bhunas — I think my spice limit is probably a madras. It’s tricky though because they vary so much. I once had a jalfrezi that felt like eating one of Satan’s testicles. On another occasion I had one that bored me senseless. May as well have had a tikka masala.
A mouthful into “London’s hottest curry” and I yearned for just that. This was disastrous in the mouth. The dish, which is nameless, is the work of Bengal Village on Brick Lane, in situ since the early Nineties. The family recently got into social media and silly food challenges — the hot curry and another one with poppadoms — naturally followed. Silly, yes, but Mr Raj, who runs the place, also donates a portion of the money made through these to Help For Heroes.
