Star Rating: ****

So, how exactly do you score a restaurant when it comes to a review?

Clearly, any rating system is entirely subjective, and based on one meal on one night – somebody else’s experience could be completely different.

But, as I do, you would no doubt take into account quality of service; restaurant ambience; all aspects of the food – quality, quantity, provenance, presentation; the facilities; and at the end of the evening – last, but definitely not least – the price.

And that last consideration presents something of a dilemma at my latest port of call, Shuvecha.

We’ve had a couple of recommendations from readers regarding this venue, and I’ve also seen suggestions on www.shropshirestar.com that it’s one of the better Indian restaurants in town, so I went along with partner Christine, nephew George, niece Mollie and their mum and dad Pauline and Steve, all on the grounds that many hands make light work.

Shuvecha – which apparently means ‘welcome’ – lives up to its name. It’s more modern than many an Indian restaurant – the owners took over the premises which once housed the rather smart Sol restaurant at the top of Wyle Cop.

Inside the door is a compact bar area, with three or four bar stools and some comfy chairs, where we received a warm ‘shuvecha’ and a friendly, young member of staff explained the pricing policy.

From Sunday to Thursday (the restaurant is open seven days a week), owner Abdul Majid has introduced what he calls ‘Stop the Clock’ – the jist of which is that whatever the time you order your food is the price you pay for three courses.

So, order immediately the doors open at 5.30pm and you pay just £5.30 for papadoms with chutneys; starter; and main course, with any variety of nan bread or rice. The menu price is irrelevant, with the exception of king prawn dishes, which attract a £2.50 surcharge.

On Friday and Saturday normal menu prices apply.

With pre-dinner drinks dispensed, we set about ordering at 6.40pm – securing the guarantee of a £6.40 bill each – and then took our table in the compact restaurant, which is situated up a flight of stairs from the bar.

Of course, good value isn’t only related to money – the quality has to be there too. And I’m pleased to say that all the signs are good.

Having polished off the crisp, freshly cooked papadoms, which came with the usual accompaniments, Mollie and George both went for onion bhajis for starter; Christine had sheek kebab; Steve chicken chat; and Pauline and I vegetable samosas.

Having dived in, everybody came up smiling. The bhajis were crisply fried and soon disappeared; the lamb kebab tangy with coriander and onion; and the samosas a revelation.

Rather than the heavy parcels filled with a vegetable mush which too many restaurants serve up, these were light with thin, crisp pastry and the contents a delicious mix of identifiable vegetables – potato, carrot, sweetcorn and lentils – with a zingy spice backing.

Steve enjoyed his chicken – small morsels of meat fried in butter with spices – although disconcertingly I’ve since discovered that the ‘chat’ in the description means ‘to lick’.

On then to the main courses. Neither Mollie nor George like their food too spicy. She went for chicken tikka masala; he came down in favour of chicken korma.

Each had a decent amount of meat with creamy sauces that hit the spot as far as both of them were concerned. For Pauline, tandoori king prawns blew the £6.40 budget; Steve plumped for chicken tikka balti; Christine had chicken dupiaza (dupiaza meaning double onions); and I had lamb jalfrazi.

All dishes were delicious, and it was nice to see a bit of restraint on the colouring front; natural spice colour is great, but too often Indian food is served up with an unnatural, radioactive glow that is frankly off-putting. George’s pale, creamy korma looked particularly delicious.

And my jalfrazi was perfect. With whole green chillis included this dish can be a bit of a trial, but here they weren’t at all overpowering, and there weren’t too many of them.

Between us we had an assortment of plain nan, keema nan (with a spiced meat filling), plain rice and mushroom pilau rice.

As I mentioned, though, it’s not just about the food. Quality of service was excellent, with smartly turned out young waiters always on hand to remove plates or recharge a glass.

Atmosphere was fine, with music kept suitably in the background, and the table offered enough room for manoeuvre.

On price, clearly the earlier the better…although if you ordered at 10pm you still get value comparable with other restaurants in town.

A four-star rating it is then, and well deserved at that. I noticed on the Star website a complaint that too many restaurants are given four stars.

But on a scale of one to five, an average restaurant must get three; only those which fulfil their remit to perfection can have five; which means that anything better than average has to be four.

Perhaps we should mark each criterion separately and add them up. In which case my four out of five translates to something more like 17 out of 20. Or 43 out of 50. Or maybe that’s too complicated. In any case it’s only my view; yours would be different.

I, for one, welcome the restaurant that welcomed me.

By Adam Haynes

MENU SAMPLE

Starters: King prawn butterfly (£3.20); garlic mushroom puri (£2.95); tandoori drumsticks (£2.95)

Main courses: Lamb pasanda (£5.40); garlic chilli king prawn (£7.95); vegetable sagwalla (with spinach) (£4.60).

Sides: Bombay potatoes (£2.10); vegetable curry (£2.10); sag paneer (spinach and cheese) (£2.10).

Sundries: Plain rice (£1.60); coriander nan (£1.80); chapati (£1).

Atmosphere: We visited early on a Thursday evening, when business was reasonably quiet – and therefore relaxing.

Service: Superb. Attentive when required, but not intrusive.

Facilities: Bad news for the disabled: you have about a dozen steps from the high-street level bar area up to the restaurant. Wheelchairs are out. The single toilet is a squeeze, and the hand basin could have been cleaner.

Contact details: Shuvecha, 82 Wyle Cop, Shrewsbury (01743) 340560