70 East St, Brighton BN1 1HQ indiansummerbrighton.co.uk
Gary Rose samples the south coast’s pioneering modern-Indian experience
However… if you’re talking “modern” Indian, now that’s a different story. We’ve got a few crackers within a five-minute walk of each other. There’s The Chilli Pickle, The Curry Leaf Café and, the longest runner of the lot, Indian Summer.
It might be the original (hard to believe it’s been around for 15 years), but is it the best? I’m pleased to report that, despite its prime passing-trade location on East Street  next door to experimental veggie hangout Terre àTerre and within wobbling distance of the pier  standards haven’t slipped. If anything, they’ve upped their game.
My jolly Italian waiter Francesco asks if I’d like some poppadum. Has anyone ever not ordered popadoms here, I wonder. A poppadum’s a poppadum, I guess, but what lifts these above the pack is the beautifully gloopy, fragrant tamarind dip.
Before I order I’m gifted an espresso cup of tomato, ginger and lime soup. It’s got a potent little wintery nip that no cold virus would survive. The NHS should be prescribing this stuff instead of the flu jab.
It’s always a bonus when wine is considered integral to an Indian meal, and here they take their vino seriously. The list is compartmentalised into “regular” wines and ones that complement spicy food: so light, fragrant, low alcohol whites and fruity, smooth, low-tannin reds.
My Chilean Pinot Noir is so dark and full bodied that I think they’ve given me a Merlot by mistake. Even more memorable is the amber-coloured noble Riesling that accompanies my dessert. Francesco’s a bit put out that I didn’t opt for the Italian, but I’m more than happy with the pungent petrol and rubber aromas slicing their way through my cashew nut tart with vanilla ice cream.
It’s monsoon season in India right now. And as I step back into East Street, it starts to chuck it down. How apt. Brightonian Summer indeed.