Dinner at Mint Leaf, tucked discreetly between the towers of Bank, unfolded as one of those rare evenings where every element — company, food, mood — falls perfectly into place. My wife and I had booked the table a few days earlier, mindful of bringing along our one-year-old son Xavier and my mother-in-law. We needed a place that struck the balance between polished and welcoming, elegant but not stiff. Mint Leaf managed it effortlessly.
The space is sleek and dramatic, yet somehow warm. Low lighting throws long shadows across dark stone walls and burnished wood floors. Despite its city-slick surroundings, there’s something calming about it — like stepping into a quiet, well-appointed lounge above the noise and rhythm of London’s financial core. From the moment we arrived, the staff were gracious, alert without hovering, and surprisingly accommodating with a baby in tow. A high chair arrived promptly, and small, thoughtful touches throughout the evening made what could have been a logistical challenge feel like a relaxed family dinner.
After some delightfully zesty cocktails, we started with the Tandoori Mixed Grill Platter, which landed at the table on a sizzling slab that caught more than one guest’s eye as it passed through the restaurant. The array of meats was generous, each piece marinated and grilled with purpose. Chicken tikka that tore apart at the touch of a fork, smoky sheekh kebabs that tasted of clove and cumin, and prawns that managed to be both charred and succulent. The platter felt like a survey of the tandoor’s full potential — earthy, aromatic, and deeply satisfying.
The Paneer Kalimirch was my mother-in-law’s choice, though we all found ourselves reaching for seconds. The paneer had the perfect bite: soft inside with a slight sear, and the black pepper masala coating it had just enough kick to stay interesting without overwhelming the palate. It was comfort food, but elevated.
Then came the Charcoal Lamb Chops, and they very nearly stole the show. Thick, juicy, and perfectly cooked, the lamb held a bold, smoky crust that gave way to pink, tender meat. There was a clever use of spice — warming rather than fiery — and just a hint of tang that cut through the richness. They didn’t last long.
Among the mains, the Butter Chicken Masala was the crowd-pleaser, as expected. Creamy, smooth, and familiar in the best way, it offered a counterpoint to the more assertive dishes on the table. But the real surprise was the Lamb Chettinad, a dish I don’t often see done well in London. Here, the lamb was slow-cooked to near collapse, surrounded by a complex sauce of black pepper, curry leaves, and coconut — intense, but with a steady, even heat rather than a sharp burn. It was the kind of dish that demands a side of naan just to catch the last spoonfuls.
And indeed, the breads and rice were every bit as thoughtfully prepared as the mains. The naan was hot, pillowy, and lightly blistered. The roti, more understated, had a delicate chew and a smoky finish from the griddle. The steamed basmati rice was exactly as it should be — fluffy, aromatic, and perfectly unobtrusive, soaking up the sauces without clumping or dominating.
To round things out, we shared the Lamb Biryani, which arrived under a delicate pastry dome that added a moment of theatre to the table. Inside, the rice was fragrant, each grain separate, and the lamb had clearly taken its time to absorb the surrounding spices. Saffron, cardamom, a whisper of rose — it was as much perfume as flavour.
For dessert, we shared two — the molten chocolate pudding with vanilla ice cream, and the passionfruit cheesecake. The former was decadent and rich, the kind of dessert that leaves you quietly nodding after each bite, while the latter was unexpectedly refreshing. The passionfruit cut through the creaminess of the cheesecake beautifully, with just enough tartness to end the evening on a bright, clean note.
Mint Leaf isn’t just another smart Indian restaurant in the city. There’s a quiet confidence in what they do — nothing showy or self-consciously modern, just classic dishes reimagined with restraint and skill. It’s rare to find a place where a toddler can be at ease, a vegetarian can feel indulged, and a spice-hunter like myself can be genuinely surprised. But we found that, and more, over the course of one long, satisfying evening.
