Having stood in line at the locally fawned over stand in Georgetown, and quite simply grinned at the simple deliciousness of the food, I would go as far as saying this wasn't miles off. The wok imprint deepening the crust on the noodles, the bean sprouts still full of vitality, Duck egg soaking up it's surroundings, and chinese sausage nuancing salty umami with the plumpest fresh prawns.

To put it mildly, this is some of the best Indian food you will ever eat, anywhere. The location may cause fear to swell in your stomach (1st floor up some escalators in a shopping mall that's seen better days) but rest assured you are in for an experience.

​At busier times of the week it's recommended to call ahead and book as it's perpetually packed. If you don't mind deafening bird song then ask for a balcony table. As far as dishes that can change the rotation of the earth, try their Mango Prawn Curry or their Bone Marrow curry. Both destined to make you swoon and need a glass of water to fight the faintness of disbelief. Armed with exemplary service, costly prices and chic ambiance, this is more of a "one-off" treat as opposed to daily opulence. 

None of their menu sampled was disappointing, rather some dishes were even better than the great ones.

"But the bowl looks so epic". Well, yes it does. Looks, as we all know, can be deceiving. 

I'm personally quite pissed off with this establishment. After having shaken life into my flu-ridden bones by way of numerous cups of strong coffee, I wilfully walked into venus-like conditions: sun tearing every shred of life out of me in a split second, waited for my Grab Taxi, hurtled through traffic for 25 flat minutes to far yonder suburbs to try the best rated ramen in KL. 


As per usual, I went off-peak so that I didn't have snorting baboons next to me whilst trying to have a private moment. It was decidedly empty, thankfully. Signature Ramen was ordered, woman was rather surly. Sadly it was a pre-cursor to what was coming: listlessness and sorrow.

​At first sip the broth was OK... promising in that sense that some broths grow on you, some flow out of you. This one didn't open up at all or offer anything exciting, just remaining painfully below average. Noodles aside (which were standard thin ramen noodles), the main culprit here was the pork. I don't quite know what they did to it, but it was tough as a flip flop, and had a bizarre taste like it actually had gone "off". It was highly unpleasant. Egg-wise it was just a regular egg, no love had been lavished on it. 

For once in my life I left 3/4 of it. Being in a city like KL with so many gut-evangelistically amazing meals, I didn't want to waste any processing power on something so tortured. I paid and left quickly, not wanting to share eye contact with the chef. 

So highly recommended by the owner of Hyderabad Birjani House (amazing spot), I simply had to check it out. It took 3 attempts to actually get there, 2 of them destroyed by timing or incessant loud construction from the back of the kitchen. 

Dosa-wise, everything was generally good but there was this bizarre sweet-taste to the actual dosa. Perhaps it was the oil or ghee they cooked it in, but it left a lingering unease. 

Too many times to count have I been told by locals about amazing places to eat, only to find them to be suffering from rabies of the tastebuds. Today was one of those days. 4 seperate people said "Chat Masala does best Masala Dosa", well, thats probably like stopping at a corner in D.C. and having 10 people tell you to go to Taco Bell or KFC. The dosa was far from terrible, but it was unfathomably uninspired.

​Whoever recommended it deserves a tight slap. All four of them.