KATHERINE MacALISTER and her teenage sons enjoy a curry night with a bit of a difference

Shhhhhhh! Don’t tell the Curry Brothers, but there are some new contenders in town, ready for a grand showdown, pistols at dawn.

They are a bit young actually, apprentice cowboys if you like, but my two teenage sons love a good curry, and as we drive past the new Gurkha Village every day, the itch to try it out just got stronger, until we finally succumbed. And wow it was good.

I ate things I’d never even tried before, and fruit and vegetables I didn't even know existed. Let’s face it, most people don’t even need a menu when they go for a curry.

They know what they like, and as it’s often a comfort food, have the same thing every time. My sons are no different, so the rule was that we all tried something different, which meant no chicken tikka masala or korma. And it was a great way forward because that’s what Gurkha Village specialises in – unusual dishes cooked in the Gurkha district of Nepal.

The converted pub (formerly the Squire Bassett), is already so popular we wouldn’t have got a table had we not booked last Friday night.

Why Hira Sepkota chose Kidlington to set up shop, remains to be seen, because it’s already a curry mecca, boasting both Tiffins and the Ovisher – two of the best curry houses in Oxfordshire. But it seems there’s room for them all.

Teenagers having appetites like horses, went for it, starting with the mango lassis, an Indian milkshake, which was wonderfully fresh and a meal in itself. We then studied the menu over the papadams.

My only criticism of the entire meal was that the dips were a touch pedestrian and didn’t reflect the fresh direction of the kitchen. But then the starters arrived and we relaxed, knowing that not only were we in good hands, but adventurous ones, which respected fresh ingredients and spices.

Which is how I came to be eating the momo, home-made dumplings served with stone ground chutney (£3.25) which were so unexpected and delicious I could scarcely contain myself.

They arrived looking like uncooked pastries, stuffed with lamb, chicken or vegetables. One mouthful had me in raptures, they were so delicate, and beautifully spiced.

The boys had the chicken chat (tender pieces of chicken with cucumber, potatoes, cherry tomatoes, spring onion, yoghurt and fresh herbs for £3.75), which was moist and juicy, and the Gurkha tandoori chicken (£3.95) marinated in the tandoor oven.

Again a lovely, seasoned piece of meat. And then the table filled up because we had ordered so many dishes we could scarcely see each other. With an entire menu section dedicated to vegetable specialities, it seemed futile to resist, which is how we came to try the lekali mushrooms (button mushrooms stuffed with delicately spiced vegetables), which I will remember forever. Not overpowering but intricate, they were a joy.

As was the katar tarkari (green jackfruit cooked with cumin seeds, herbs and yoghurt £4.95). Jackfruit looks like a bumpy mango but tastes like a cross between an artichoke and a pineapple, and the accompanying sauce had such a zing I nearly licked the plate clean.

The Gurkha paneer palungo (cheese and creamed baby spinach £4.95), was cleverly concocted and took the edge off the more fiery dishes. The butter chicken (£7.95) came in a rich creamy sauce and the lamb dhansak (£8.95) was a beautiful take on a classic.

Throw in rice, a mix of naans and some cucumber raitha, and you can understand why we were groaning before long.

So I was astonished to hear the boys asking for the dessert menus and ordering the kulfi ice creams in malai (Indian milk gently spiced with ginger and cardomoms) and pistachio (£2.50).

But they were so fantastic I soon had pudding envy and know what to order next time. Job done. But rather than crossing this one off the list, all I want now is to go back and try everything else on the menu, although I doubt I’ll be able to keep it to myself this time.