When I walk down Brick Lane I like to play a game called "how many harassers?" The object of the game is to make a bet with your Brick Lane travel companion on how many restaurant staff members are going to disrupt you with their attempts to entice you into their restaurants with crazy offers such as you buy one curry and you get poppadoms, onion bhajis, naan breads, beers, and their wife and keys for the hour absolutely free.

However, there was no time for misogynistic hyperbole today, as I was already committed to one restaurant, "Standard Balti House". You have to admire the creativity in their name. While everyone else on the street was claiming their curries were so good they would induce labour before you've even done the dirty, these guys were saying that they were just a humble, standard balti house. No bulls****, just balti.

I was drawn to them. Perhaps they were the Jonny Wilkinson of Brick Lane (modest, letting their food do the boasting) while their competitors were Chris Ashtons (pretending they're tough when a prop's fart could blow them over and swan-diving their way into obscurity).

Turns out - they were pretty standard, but I liked it!

The service was minimalist - I'm starting to wonder if it's only the UK and the US who do follow-ups, but efficient. The restaurant was very quiet though so if we needed something it wasn't hard to get the staff's attention: I guess most Brick Laners were visiting the Deluxe Balti Brothel next door.

As I was with two ladies and I wanted to pretend to be manly (and also because we were using a Taste Card for 50% off) I decided to attempt, for the first time in my life, a lamb vindaloo - the spiciest curry on the menu, said to reduce grown men to feeble shells of what they once were, kinda like what happened when Chris Ashton met George North...

Now because I am as used to spice as Nigel Farage is used to integrity, I ordered some naan bread, a poppadom and a mango lassi as insurance (I politely refused when the guy offered me his keys). As I waited for a friend to arrive, I ordered a chicken tandoori starter, which was actually cooked on a tandoor (well they said so, anyway) and was pretty tasty. Nothing special, but good.

Then came the vindaloo and what was surely to lead to an Elvis-style death. The weapon was well-presented and the poppadoms came with an array of chutneys. As I asked my female companions to tell my parents I love them I tasted the vindaloo. It was spicy, but not too spicy. I kept at the curry at a decent pace. Hmm this isn't so bad I don't see what the fuss is about ...... wait...... uh oh ..... aaaaaaaaaahhhhh! LASSI! LASSI! The spice built up in your throat and I was afraid to talk to my friend opposite in case I accidentally set her on fire.

Anyway, you're not here to read about my virgin vindaloo, but you want to know how good this place is. Well quite honestly, the restaurant's name is about right (although I didn't have a balti so I can't say for sure) - it was standard. Tasty enough to be an enjoyable meal, but nothing special and I have had better back in Wales for cheaper than the normal price here. However, the lassi was particularly delicious and I can't exactly say the vindaloo was bland, although I feel I may have gotten off easily.

Pros: Good Indian food, good service, delicious lassi
Cons: It's good Indian food, nothing more.

Would I recommend?: For a cheap meal, yes. For a special occasion, no.