Good friends, wine and the prospect of a yummy curry all the ingredients for an excellent night were in place.

But, as in life, things do not turn out quite as you expect.

When I and my two girlfriends eat together at home, the house often resonates with the sound of assorted high-pitched giggling and cackling, which acts like an ultrasonic male housemate repeller.

But we opened up a controversy along with our bottle of wine at the Mirch Masala and, after a tense exchange of opinions, the only sound that could be heard was piped music as wounded faces intently studied menus.

There is nothing like the uncomfortableness of falling out in a restaurant.

What was desperately needed were lashings of delicious food and super-cool wine to smooth things over.

While we were mulling over the selection, we were able to cast an eye over our surroundings: large colourful Indian-themed paintings on the walls, and some curious-looking figurines on top of the bar and in the entrance of the restaurant, which looked like they were enacting some kind of dramatic, but not particularly Indian, scene.

It was a pleasant enough place, but slightly on the tacky side we noted the napkins were made from paper and there was no women's toilet, just a dilapidated disabled toilet with no soap.

SO WHAT DID YOU CHOOSE?

I went for the Mirch Masala's speciality, samandari naruyal salan, king size prawns cooked in coconut cream for £10.50.

Unfortunately, the prawns were rubbery and the coconut sauce watery. It had all the hallmarks of frozen food, defrosted and then overcooked.

My friend had another house delicacy, murg alam panaha whole chicken breast stuffed with minced lamb, cooked in saffron yoghurt, creamed cashew nuts, mixed fruit and served in sauces for £8.25. Despite the sumptious-sounding description, she complained that the chicken and lamb, traditionally served with mild spices, were insipid.

My other friend asked for lamb dhansak, which she found pleasantly tasty. We all agreed the peswari nan bread was on the bland side, and our poppadoms could have done with being crunchier. We'd not tried saag paneer, a spinach and cheese dish, before and so gave it a whirl. No doubt its tanginess would have delighted some diners, but we could only describe it as limp and tasting like old socks.

ANY GOOD POINTS?

One of the attractions of the Mirch Masala is that you can bring your own wine and pay a corkage fee of 50p per person but you'll have to ask for a wine cooler if you want your drink to stay chilled.

The food arrived quite promptly and there was no service charge.

The most successful of the items we sampled was the mushroom rice.

VERDICT: On a road with a multitude of curryhouses, there are other places I'd prefer to eat at.