1 /5 Charles: I first went to Noor Jahan in the early 1990s and ate there regularly for over a decade. Back then it was a reliable neighbourhood Indian restaurant with decent food and a welcoming atmosphere. That place no longer exists.
I returned about a year ago with a large group and the food was plainly bad: greasy, bland, and lazily prepared. Given the quality of Indian restaurants nearby, the lack of effort was striking. Still, nostalgia persuaded me to give it one last chance.
That was a mistake. When I sat down, I realised the chairs were the same ones from over 25 years ago—confirmed later by an old photo. The upholstery is wrecked, the padding collapsed, and the seating is actively uncomfortable. This is not “character”; it is neglect.
The food was worse. My lamb kebab starter was raw and cold in the middle. I could not get a waiter’s attention, and when the plate was cleared—untouched—not a single question was asked. No apology, no curiosity, no professionalism. One daughter’s onion bhaji was greasy and unpleasant. The other’s samosas were old, soft, and tired. The curry mains were thin, watery, and completely tasteless. The rice appeared reheated and stale.
Service throughout was indifferent to the point of contempt. The final confirmation came from the manager, who responded to my complaint with: “Some people like it and some people don’t.” That is not a defence; it is an admission that standards no longer matter.
This restaurant is coasting entirely on its past reputation while delivering substandard food, poor service, and obvious decay. New diners should avoid it outright. Long-time regulars should accept that nostalgia does not excuse incompetence. There are far better places nearby. Until Noor Jahan renovates, replaces its kitchen, and relearns basic hospitality, it deserves to be ignored.
7881-1.webp)
