Turkish restaurant Tas doesn't go in for grand boasts. "All our dishes are prepared daily from fresh ingredients, some organic products & olive oil," claims the website. How unusually understated.
Still, Tas's lack of pretention is pulling in the crowds. On a Tuesday evening, the Borough branch of this Turkish mini-chain (there are other branches in Farringdon, New Globe Walk and The Cut) was heaving. Perhaps it's the prices - four quid for starters and eight for most mains is unusually reasonable, and there's a two-course set menu for £8.25 as well. We were led through the main ground-floor section of the restaurant - ominously, past an empty guitar stand - and into a basement.
I let my companion order, as he's a keen enthusiast of the kind of Turkish food plonked half on the table, half in your lap by toothless crones on the Edgware Road. I was busy looking round the room - we were entirely surrounded by groups of twentysomething women.
"There aren't any testicles," the Enthusiast announced sniffily, looking at the menu. "I'll say," I muttered under my breath, wondering if every hen night in the world was here.
To start, we had enginar - fresh artichokes cooked with carrots, potatoes and garlic - and sucuk izgara, grilled garlic sausages. "It's a
Still, Tas's lack of pretention is pulling in the crowds. On a Tuesday evening, the Borough branch of this Turkish mini-chain (there are other branches in Farringdon, New Globe Walk and The Cut) was heaving. Perhaps it's the prices - four quid for starters and eight for most mains is unusually reasonable, and there's a two-course set menu for £8.25 as well. We were led through the main ground-floor section of the restaurant - ominously, past an empty guitar stand - and into a basement.
I let my companion order, as he's a keen enthusiast of the kind of Turkish food plonked half on the table, half in your lap by toothless crones on the Edgware Road. I was busy looking round the room - we were entirely surrounded by groups of twentysomething women.
"There aren't any testicles," the Enthusiast announced sniffily, looking at the menu. "I'll say," I muttered under my breath, wondering if every hen night in the world was here.
To start, we had enginar - fresh artichokes cooked with carrots, potatoes and garlic - and sucuk izgara, grilled garlic sausages. "It's a
robust and healthy, rather than a naturally sophisticated or subtle cuisine," the Enthusiast remarked lofily as they arrived. I remained unconvinced - the flavours were muted, although not unpleasant, the presentation was from the 'lots of small bits thrown together' school, and the sausage was distinctly dry, which resulted in me gulping down the reasonably priced (and thankfully not Turkish) red wine.
For my main, I had tavuk guvech - chicken with ginger, mushrooms, onion, tomato - a Turkish take on the one-pot meat and vegetable stew. It was tasty, moist and reassuring after the disappointment of the starters. I felt emboldened to steal a bit of the Enthusiast's kebab, a nicely spiced minced lamb affair he proclaimed to be, again, dryer than the 'real thing' from Dalston or Green Lanes.
Neither of us felt very enthused by the prospect of puddings such as baklava or sundried apricots with home-made cream, and I was feeling vaguely dispirited by the whole >>
For my main, I had tavuk guvech - chicken with ginger, mushrooms, onion, tomato - a Turkish take on the one-pot meat and vegetable stew. It was tasty, moist and reassuring after the disappointment of the starters. I felt emboldened to steal a bit of the Enthusiast's kebab, a nicely spiced minced lamb affair he proclaimed to be, again, dryer than the 'real thing' from Dalston or Green Lanes.
Neither of us felt very enthused by the prospect of puddings such as baklava or sundried apricots with home-made cream, and I was feeling vaguely dispirited by the whole >>
