I arrived at Indian restaurant Shah Jahan on Friday night with two of my best friends. I made the booking; I announced our reservation; I was given the wine list. As we sat down, my friend said: “He can tell you’re the boss. It’s so nice when someone else takes charge in a restaurant.”

“Hmmm…” I mused; “that does sound like it would be nice… I wonder what that would feel like?” At which point my dinner companions promptly took the menu off me. “Right!” they announced. “We’re taking care of dinner tonight.” I was terrified.

At that moment, the fourth member of our party walked through the door and joined us. He was duly informed of the plan. Seeing my discomfort, he started mouthing the names of dishes across the table at me: “madras or rogan josh?” he whispered, conspiratorially. “Shhh!!!” exclaimed the others; “Vicky is NOT getting to make the decisions tonight!”

Fortunately – and despite my control-freak fears – they made excellent choices. Or perhaps all the dishes would’ve been equally good – it’s hard to know. After some preliminary poppadums (which were a bit lacking in hot and sour chutneys as dipping sauces) and onion bhajis, we made it to the main event: the curries.

Curries at Shah Jahan

Curries at Shah Jahan

My brave friends had ordered us chicken saag, prawn dhansak, lamb madras and aloo gobi. It should first be noted that all four curries tasted distinctly different from each other: the chefs at Shah Jahan clearly hadn’t started with a homogenous base sauce that so often seems to be the case in Indian restaurants in Amsterdam. My favourites were the prawn dhansak and lamb madras: the lentils in the dhansak had bite and freshness; the lamb was properly spiced and the sauce was chilli-hot without losing the warm spices of the marinade. I was less keen on the aloo gobi (the cauliflower tasted like it had been reheated), while the chicken saag was tasty, thick and buttery – although puréed spinach is never my favourite addition to curries, if I’m honest.

Dinner came to €32 each, including drinks and a tip – and while that may sound on the high side for a curry, it’s not unreasonable for Amsterdam restaurants these days. Plus, it was a small price to pay for handing over decision-making power to someone else; I should probably try relinquishing control more often…