Lasan, Birmingham: Curry but not as you know it:

But then this isn't your average curry house.

Lasan has long been a popular haunt for Midland foodies in search of a classy curry in sophistocated surroundings – about as far from the balti belt as you can get.

However, it was not until 2010 when it won Gordon Ramsay's Best Local Restaurant on Channel 4's The F Word that the restaurant really started to make waves.

Add in the fact that chef director Aktar Islam stole the show on BBC Two's Great British Menu, creating one of the winning dishes in 2011, and suddenly getting a table there became a sport.

So, I made that call – weeks ago. And despite my forward planning I still only managed to bag a 7pm table, although that didn't matter since the restaurant was already half full.

Now, I admit this was my fourth visit to Lasan, testament to how good it is particularly when, by my fickle nature, I rarely return to even the best places more than twice. What's the point? There are new fruits to be sampled elsewhere.

But something keeps me coming back to Lasan – my regularity seems to have even been noticed by the maitre d', who welcomed me like an old friend and refered to me by first name. Usually this kind of familiarity would irriate me but somehow it felt like slipping in to a favourite coat. I wouldn't have been surprised or perturbed if they'd have offered me 'my usual'.

Housed in the Dakota Buildings, just off St Paul's Square in the heart of Brum's gem quarter, Lasan feels like a trendy loft apartment with its mezzanine level floor and open glass staircase. There's plenty of blonde wood, trendy Far East object d'arts and twinkling lights – it has the same calming influence as a posh spa. I wondered where I should head for my ylang ylang-scented facial, such is the vibe.

And so to the menu which is a delight to read and impossible to chose from; we had to usher away the waiter twice before we'd finally made up our minds.

Lasan is particularly well-known for its seafood, in particular the Alleppey seabass which inspired the winning fish course on Great British Menu. Carnivores will love the imaginatively prepared duck, venison, mutton and beef, while there's sweet potato kofta and other tastes of the turf for veggies.

Once tough decisons had been made some pre-starters arrived to silence our rumbling tums.

There were the usual poppadums and chutneys – I say 'usual' but these were perfect poppadums and delectable dips including a cooling red onion-infused yogurt and chunky mango chutney. No neon-coloured sauces laced with e-numbers here, people. A square of slate also arrived carrying two chaat puri – tiny crisp pillows filled with chickpeas and chopped onions and then topped up on the spot with a spiced sauce. There's no nibbling allowed, these are the Chesney Hawkes of Indian finger foods – one hit wonders. But what a hit they are.

I could have eaten at least a dozen of these but then it could have ruined my starter, which arrived soon after. I opted for the Ajawani paneer while the other half plumped for the soft shell crab.

The generous cubes of homemade paneer were like no other I'd tasted. Smooth, creamy and fresh it had been marinated in garlic, ginger and spices and then chargrilled to give it a delicious smoky flavour.

However, it was not for the faint-hearted and my lips tingled with chilli heat long after the final morsels had been savoured.

Him indoors also commented that his soft shell crab had a little too much heat for his liking, and that there wasn't quite enough cucumber raita to quell the fire.

We were given a substantial enough break between starters and main courses for our mouths to recover and, thankfully, our main courses were a little less fiery but still packed a flavourful punch.

The man of the house chose the Hiran Achari, a roasted loin of venison with curried pumpkin and roasted shallots. Presentation was impeccable; it was accompanied by a miniature copper saucepan of thick and satisfying slow- braised haunch of wild venison.

A light gravy infused with Nigella seeds was poured over the meat elegantly by the waiter, but there was still plenty left over for adding later.

The venison loin was perfectly pink and went down a treat with the accompanying veg; there was even charred florets of broccoli, a pretty much banned substance in my house such is my hatred of the stuff. But he was delighted and, admitedly, it did look very good indeed.

While his order was a complete meal, reflected in the £26 price tag, I opted for the traditional curry, rice, naan route. My kukkar makhani is Lasan's closest thing to a chicken tikka masala but a world away from that sad supermarket micro-meal.

The hunks of chicken breast (I am talking Channing Tattum-sized hunks) were enormous and bathed in a pool of tangy tomato, honey and cashew nut sauce. It was creamy without being cloying, light enough to have you believe it was almost healthy. Lasan was named healthiest restaurant in the West Midlands by Men's Health magazine after it was recognised for adopting waist-wittling cooking techniques and packing in flavour with fresh spices and herbs rather than fat. I am not sure the accompanying buttery garlic and coriander naan would have been quite as kind to my bikini body regime but it was delicious and perfect for lapping up the sauce.

Side orders of cumin and petit pois rice, and smoked spiced aubergine came in more mini saucepans that were so cute I wanted to smuggle one home in my handbag. Don't worry though, I didn't. My handbag was way too small.

The aubergine was stunning and had the type of moreish consistency that could keep you going back well after your waistband starts weeping for mercy.

Having polished off the lot we almost admitted defeat but in the interest of providing a well-rounded review and well-rounded tummies, we surged on and ordered dessert.

Call it a cop-out but we couldn't face anymore difficult decisions so chose the sharing plate of puds. Great desserts have always been a bit of a Lasan speciality and not just because they recognise that, unlike most Indian restaurants, a plastic-cone shaped portion of kulfi does not make the grade.

Here you can chose from lemon and cardamon posset, chocolate torte with candied ginger, and gulub jamun aur rabri, all looking as pretty as they taste.

The sharing plate was no exception, presenting generous portions of spiced apple macaroon, vanilla ice cream, Gajar halva samosa and pistachio kulfi.

Colourful purees were smeared across the plate and there was a pretty adornment of berries prompting the other half to quip that he'd rather not see a strawberry or a blackberry in Indian dessert. I think he's right. Surely India is home to the exotic; the mango, the papaya. . . and there's no place for the humble British berry? We ate them anyway with the rest of the dessert. He liked the macaroon while I prefered the halva. We both liked the ice cream and the kulfi. I knew there was a reason I like this man.

The bill came in at £112, including impeccable service and three large bottles of sparkling water, and while there will be a lot of peoplewho will think that's a lot for a curry, I'd say 'don't knock it 'til you've tried it'.

A few Indian restaurants in the West Midlands have tried to compete with Lasan, namely Bilash in Wolverhampton, Pushkar in Birmingham, and Five Rivers in Walsall, but they are merely young pretenders.

Lasan's in a league of its own. So much more than just a posh curry; it's exceptional ingredients, imaginative and skilled cooking, elegant surroundings.

The only question I am left asking is, when is visit number five?

Lasan

3-4 Dakota Buildings,

James St, St Paul's Square

Birmingham

B3 1SD

0121 212 3664

http://www.lasan.co.uk

By Emily Bridgewater