Since opening its first location in Covent Garden in 2010, Dishoom has become a London institution. The classics—chicken ruby, black daal, moreish okra fries—still stand up. And as a suggestion to a group of colleagues that will make you a hero until the next business day, or to delight a mate from the US (who’s fully clued up on the Matka lore)—Dishoom works. But the runaway myth-making doesn’t match up with what is a handy, easy-going empire, with solid Indian dishes. And no, we wouldn’t recommend doing the serious queue time. Shoreditch is the prettiest Dishoom sibling. Mainly because of the verandah. Out here, beneath higgeldy-piggeldy hung lanterns, dates escape the work crowds and relax into armchairs parked on huge, worn rugs, the twinkly fairy lights giving everything a one-more-julep-for-the-road feel. Inside the chaos-o-meter ratchets up to, ‘overwhelmed yet?’. Dishes (all of them, at once) arrive too soon after ordering and tables are squished in tight. Groups get the best deal—they’re able to book after 6pm and can spread out in booths, with space for both their elbows and a plate of charred lamb chops. When it comes to ordering, the Dishoom heavy-hitters are the way to go. The chicken ruby is a buttery, creamy bowl that we still have a soft spot for, many awkward second dates later. The daal is rich, the okra fries crisp and tangy. But deviate from that well-trodden path—lamb biryani stingy on the lamb, tandoori roti that’s all edge and no softness—and you’ll end up underwhelmed.