BareChingTong.

My good friend Tracey, celebrating her 40th birthday, invited a few of us over to her home-town for a meal in one of their many (2) restaurants, last night. I can't tell you how pleased I was with the prospect of heading off to Birchington. Something not-quite-right about that place but I just can't put my finger on it.
Still, Tracey's a lovely girl and I wouldn't want to let her down.
Our plan was to have a meal in the Chinese restaurant in the High Street (which shall remain nameless) and then head off around town to 'whoop it up'.
Am I just speaking for myself when I say that walking into a completely empty restaurant at 7-30 on a friday night is not a good indication of its' popularity?
After taking stock for a moment, we decided to shuffle off to the Indian eatery across the way which was where the hungry masses were congregating.
Tandoori Nights, I hadn't been there for, perhaps, 10 years, at which time all of the staff were wearing Blue Peter Badges, awarded for offering to feed the rest of the World with their 'Flying Curry Service (10% discount if you collect)' operating out of Manston. I don't think they do that any more.
I must say that the food was excellent, the service was sharp and attentive and I fancied one of the waiters like mad!
Had a wonderful evening (despite completely failing to get off with the waiter, dammit!) and must make a point of going there again, if only for the street entertainment in the form of a plethora of swearing, spitting hoodies.