Will Bowlby and Rik Campbell’s mini-chain started life in a Pop Brixton shipping container, then put down roots in Soho, and opened this White City branch in the revamped Television Centre a year ago. The venue is wrongly billed as ‘Ango-Indian’ — it doesn’t serve food of the Anglo-Indian community and is, in fact, British-Indian. This is the largest branch so far, with bright contemporary interior, comfy booths, open-view kitchen, and plant-filled terrace. There would probably be a riot if samphire pakoras were ever taken off the menu; and it’s easy to see why the tempura-like sticks of saline, bright green minerality, beautifully contrasted with a tamarind drizzle, have been such a hit. Another popular dish of Kerala fried chicken is also available; and the bigger menu at this branch offers rich pork shoulder vindaloo to share. Kricket is a good example of Indian food filtered through non-Indian lenses, done with knowledge and respect.

Flora Indica is the name of a book published in the 19th century that catalogued plant species discovered by Scottish botanists during the Victorian era. Set over two floors, this cosy, elegant restaurant in Earl’s Court pays tribute to that era, with Victorian glass and brass, Harris tweed, and a subtle yet notable botanical theme that’s most apparent on the extensive drinks menu. Chef Sameer Vasudeva’s cooking turns expectations on their head: a deeply rustic peasant dish of millet roti with stone-ground garlic-red chilli chutney comes on as a masala papad-like crisp, delicate, lacey pancake; and jerusalem artichoke crisps bring smokiness and lightness to an otherwise conventional papdi chaat. There are succulent Malwani king prawns with black radish; rich pulled duck pancakes with red amaranth; clove-spiked spinach and paneer ‘bonbon’; and whole stuffed bitter gourd in pumpkin and yoghurt sauce — with the citric, floral vibrancy of lime leaf pulao bringing all the tastes and textures together.

One of London’s best-known Indian chefs Rohit Ghai opened this impressive venue at the end of 2018, replacing was once another famous Modern Indian: Vineet Bhatia’s Rasoi (and later VBL). Alluding to themes of countryside, wildlife, and game hunting, Kutir means ‘a small cottage with thatched roof in the middle of a forest’ — a description somewhat at odds with the chintzy townhouse location in Chelsea, its elaborately printed wallpaper, heavy gilded mirrors, and artfully painted tiles. Any presuppositions are turned on their head when Gujarati dhokla arrive with apple slices and an entourage of salad leaves, a combination that works magnificently; and deep, dark venison cooked in mustard oil is paired with a decoratively scrunched-up paratha. Kashmiri lamb rogan josh, with an intriguing back note of stone flower spice, is served with Bihari-style mashed purple potato chokha; and jackfruit kofta startles with a tomato-onion sauce of a breathtaking depth of flavour.

Namita and Camellia Panjabi’s Knightsbridge venue opened to exceptionally effusive reviews 15 years ago, and was the first Indian to make a feature of three major cooking techniques: tandoor, sigri grill, and tawa — an idea subsequently copied by several other restaurants. Chefs cooking theatrically line the entire back wall, bringing smoke, flame and drama to a sexy room that’s moodily lit with glass droplet chandeliers, candles and tealights. On a regularly-changing menu there might be khaki-green kababs with watercress, tangy with its stuffing of concentrated yoghurt and pickling spices; or whole masala lobster grilled and then stuffed back into its shell. Don’t miss gulab jamun cheesecake if available: a baroque extravaganza of puff pastry base and creamy cheesecake studded with pieces of own-made jamuns, crowned with toffee popcorn, cocoa powder, purple pansies, spun sugar straws, and rose syrup.

Meaning ‘kitchen’ in Swahili, Ravinder Bhogal’s three-year old Marylebone gem has been a blast of fresh air in the male-dominated world of Modern Indian. Firstly there’s the imaginatively homely, unapologetically feminine look of pink walls, printed tablecloths and mirrorwork cushions that’s a far cry from ‘gentlemen’s club’ or ‘colonial’. Then there’s the menu full of influences and ingredients from South East Asia, Middle East, East Africa, and Britain. Bhel with sweet potatoes and apples is a marvellous balance of crunchy and tender, sweet and spicy. On a regularly changing menu, there might be delicate courgette flower tempura stuffed with Kerala-style crab and coriander-coconut chutney; and brightly spiced aubergine salad with caramelised (and currently fashionable) foxnuts. Warm, paan-flavoured madelines, served with Kenyan chai, are worth the wait it takes to bake them fresh. While many Modern Indian restaurants are stuck in the era of truffle oil and sun-dried tomatoes, the cooking here pushes the cuisine into the 21st century.

Ostentatious as a Bollywood babe’s wedding trousseau, this restaurant and bar is one of the most glamorous places to drink and dine in London. It moved to its current St James’s site a few years ago; but the original opened in Chelsea in a blaze of positive publicity in 1990. Owners Namita Panjabi and Ranjit Mathrani called it ‘Anglo-Indian’, a term used for someone with a mixed British and Indian ancestry, or their culture and cuisine, but here meant what eventually came to be known as Modern Indian. ‘Chutney Mary’ was a curious choice for a name though: a derogatory term for a girl from Bombay’s lower class who wears gaudy clothes and speaks in a fake accent to appear more sophisticated. It was the first restaurant to highlight the regional origin of every dish it served. Today, instead of breaking new ground, the menu is littered with items found in other Indian restaurants, like as tokri chaat and truffle khichdi — though they’re done very well. There’s a Goa On The Rocks cocktail from the original 1990 drinks list, but barely any food from that era.

Open in its current location since 1926, this opulent first floor venue overlooking Regent Street is London’s oldest surviving Indian restaurant. It didn’t come into prominence until it was taken over by Namita and Camellia Panjabi’s Chutney Mary Group in 1997; and, in particular, after it was refurbished and relaunched in 2006. The historic site was originally set up by retired army officer Edward Palmer — its story is the stuff of legend that needs to be told another time, and perhaps turned into a BBC costume drama. Strikingly coloured glass chandeliers and decorative screens of maharajas’s palaces of the 1920s is the perfect backdrop to mulligatawny soup with an amazing depth of flavour, and fragrant lamb biryani — both of which are cooked to recipes from the original 1926 menu. More contemporary dishes include tamarind-varnished venison and quail scotch eggs.

A cheaper, more casual offshoot of the famous Tamarind, the best thing about this restaurant is that it welcomes walk-ins with open arms. It’s a dimly lit space, with dark wood, ornate artwork, and an extravagant display of fresh flowers. Although the menus at the two venues are different, some items overlap and are less expensive here than at the Mayfair original. Mini raj kachori is vigorously spiced and over-stuffed with sev, pomegranate seeds and sweetened yoghurt, just as it should be; and there’s wonderfully nuanced Hyderabadi kofta in almond and white poppy seed gravy. Hot, sweet pickled prawn balchao has been reimagined as a tandoori grill; and Chettinad chicken reimagined as biryani — but it all works beautifully. A simple side dish of ‘Jaipuri’ fried baby potatoes with a light dusting of chaat masala steals the limelight from some of the fancier items.

Iqbal Wahhab launched this upscale Indian in 2001, but it wasn’t long before he left; it’s now very much executive chef Vivek Singh’s baby. Located in a magnificent Grade II listed building of the former Westminster Library, a large space with two bars set over two floors, the book-lined dining room has a cinematic feel, with bright white walls, bright white tablecloths and bright lights. The former gentlemen’s club décor, beloved of the MPs who regularly dine here, has given way to lighter space that makes diners feel like they’re in a movie. ‘Bombay-style vegetables’ with truffled pao and jerusalem artichoke crisps is essentially pao bhaji with a culinary college education. The restaurant is famous for game and fish dishes, such as lobster with kokum dip and dried shrimp chutney; and tandoori venison loin with fenugreek and robust black stone flower reduction. The spicing is spirited, and the sheer variety of speciality ingredients and techniques is dazzling.

Probably the best place to eat and drink in the City’s renowned Bloomberg Arcade, this smart sports bar is inspired by Indian army mess bars popular with military regiments — but also has the good looks, shiny surfaces, and sturdy furniture of classic British gentlemen’s clubs. Like other Indian pubs and bars, the emphasis is on kababs, chops, chaats, sandwiches, and barbecue dishes that are handy to pick up and eat while eyes are focused on the screen. Glazed puff pastries filled with gorgeously spiced guinea fowl come with fragrant green chutney for dipping; and a chaat of lotus root slices and puffed lotus seeds balances the tangy with the savoury. Mashed aubergines with toasted sweetcorn on miniature Rajasthani chickpea flour flatbreads have a deep smokiness that doesn’t overpower the spicing; and lamb kababs are juicy and properly charred on all sides. This is superlative snacking.

Harneet and Devina Baweja’s widely trumpeted Kolkata-style bakery called Custard didn’t quite come off, but this second branch of Gunpowder has opened in its place at the One Tower Bridge development. Yes, soft-serve custard is still on the menu, if anyone wants a taste of what might have been, but before getting to it, there’s a succession of lively small plates. Grilled wild blackwater oysters are successfully paired with curry leaf butter, fish roe, and garlic; glorious venison and vermicelli doughnuts are pepped up with fennel and chilli chutney. A vivid red pepper sauce brings out the smokiness of grilled artichoke hearts; and the richness of whole duck leg is offset by the sweetness of parsnips and the animated spicing of Andhra tomato sambal. The bright venue is noisy and crowded but a lot of fun, and is a rare Indian to serve orange wine.