Punjab Paradise – October
24th, 2006 (Birmingham, UK)
My neighbors have been putting pressure on me to leave the country since the house party. So, in the interest of good community spirit, I booked a flight to England to drink beer, eat curry and meet up with some friends. Case in point, Mr. Andy Liggins; an old backpacking buddy. Andy agreed to put me up for a few nights and show me his city’s love of curry.
The Brummies as they are known in England, have a lot of pride in their city. While the rest of England typically agree that Birminghamers have the least attractive accent, the locals here boast that they are “the true second city” (take that Manchester!)
Indeed, historically many of England’s industries have been based here. And whom can you employ in those industries? If you said immigrants from places like India and Bangladesh, you’d be right. This ultimately means that Birmingham has a plethora of streets lined with curry houses. The most famous of these streets is the Ladypool Road, which likely rivals London’s Brick Lane, or just about anything in Glasgow.
On this night, which also happened to be my birthday, Ladypool Road was packed with people, including some Indian hotties all duded up in their saris (how come our Indian women don’t look like that in Canada?!?) Fireworks were being set off in the streets in celebration of either Diwali or in anticipation of Guy Fawkes day. I don’t really know. We parked Andy’s car across the street at Sham’s Auto (which judging by the looks of it, is well named) before making our way into Punjab Paradise.
Similar to Rue Prince Arthur in Montreal, the deal on Ladypool road is that none of the restaurants sell wine or beer but you can bring as much of your own as you can carry. Unfortuantely, we didn’t stock up before hand but lucky for us, at Punjab Paradise when you order mango lassis they bring a giant 4 liter jug. All for the bargain price of 2 pounds!! Ridiculous. If this isn’t enough, you get free pappadums. We also ordered an appetizer platter of shish kebab, and other fried and tandoorized meats and veg. All the items were exceptionally tasty but I hardly had room for my main entrée after chowing down on the mountain of food. Plus, like many appetizer platters, there’s a mystery item that appears to result in chorizo sausage-like flatulence. Awkward.
As for the entrees, when in Rome order whatever the Romans eat. Probably something with pasta. Or gelato. When in Birmingham, order a Balti. Depending on whom you talk to, the Balti was either invented in Brummie or in India. The locals claim it as their own (how British it that? Kinda like the massive Egyptian section of the British Museum in London) but none of the restraunteurs are willing to admit to that. I ordered the prawn balti and it was quite tasty. Unfortunately, it wasn’t spicy enough. This might have been my fault as I had some trepidation about the heat factor seeing as I was in England where locals eat curry at Subway (see future review). Subsequently, I woosed out and asked for a mild curry. I guess I don’t know my own strength.
The real reason to eat on the Ladypool Road is the naan. Without hyperbole, the naan is the size of an elephant’s ear and is carried out of the kitchen using two hands. Ridiculous. Ren always complains about lack of unlimited naan. He would not have been disappointed here. This being said, we were so full from the massive portions of lassi, appetizer, and balti that we could hardly muster ¼ of the bread between the two of us. Really, who can eat that much naan?
Overall a solid experience however, I have my suspicions that the owner over charged us as the bill came to like 26 pounds for the two of us. That’s ridiculous seeing as 4 liters of lassi costs only 2 quid. But what do I care? Liggins paid. Then he drove us to a super posh pub in the middle of the English countryside afterwards. All in all, a good birthday I must say.
Rating: This place would probably get a seven if it were back home. I’ve had better curry for sure. But you really can’t beat the authentic British curry experience. After all, England is were I first learned to eat Indian food. For nostalgia and its oversized naan, Punjab Paradise gets an 8.
My neighbors have been putting pressure on me to leave the country since the house party. So, in the interest of good community spirit, I booked a flight to England to drink beer, eat curry and meet up with some friends. Case in point, Mr. Andy Liggins; an old backpacking buddy. Andy agreed to put me up for a few nights and show me his city’s love of curry. 
On this night, which also happened to be my birthday, Ladypool Road was packed with people, including some Indian hotties all duded up in their saris (how come our Indian women don’t look like that in Canada?!?) Fireworks were being set off in the streets in celebration of either Diwali or in anticipation of Guy Fawkes day. I don’t really know. We parked Andy’s car across the street at Sham’s Auto (which judging by the looks of it, is well named) before making our way into Punjab Paradise.
The real reason to eat on the Ladypool Road is the naan. Without hyperbole, the naan is the size of an elephant’s ear and is carried out of the kitchen using two hands. Ridiculous. Ren always complains about lack of unlimited naan. He would not have been disappointed here. This being said, we were so full from the massive portions of lassi, appetizer, and balti that we could hardly muster ¼ of the bread between the two of us. Really, who can eat that much naan?