Ranjit's Kitchen

607 Pollokshaws Road, Glasgow

0141 423 8222

Lunch/Dinner £4.95-£18

Food rating 8 and a half/10

NICOLA Sturgeon has a definite advantage over her election opponents that traditional political pundits have missed: Ranjit's Kitchen, a Sikh café come deli, has just opened a few doors along from her constituency office. Electioneering requires stamina. An army marches on its stomach. Canvassers are usually condemned to snack on crisps and confectionery, or bolt down fish suppers and kebabs in the back of the campaign truck, but Sturgeon HQ personnel can now pop down the road and take away some wholesome Panjabi food. Or, since the tables are long and canteen-style, they could move meetings down to Ranjit's, for this is the dream workplace cafeteria. Actually, it's an enterprise that would gladden any area.

The eponymous Ranjit grew up on the family farm in the Panjab (Panjab, not Punjab, is the more etymologically correct spelling, it seems), growing vegetables and fruit, milking cows and buffalos, and learning all of the kitchen basics from her mother and elders. So we're talking women's cooking: dishes that are prepared on the day for eating that same day. "The kitchen is simply about making homemade Panjabi food precisely the way it is eaten in every Panjabi household," she promises. "The food we serve is authentic and has not been Westernised, watered down or tampered with to suit a Glasgow restaurant crowd. [There's almost no rice here, for instance, because breads are the Panjabi staple.] Our menu is limited and will change regularly depending on what vegetables are available in the local fruit and veg shops."This woman is speaking my language even though I don't speak a word of Panjabi.

Ranjit's Kitchen doesn't aspire to be a restaurant, so a visit here feels like dropping in on your Panjabi extended family for tea. The menu (wholly vegetarian) is wisely short: a sabji (vegetable), dal, and paratha of the day. Ranjit's closes at 7.30 pm. Next time, I'm going back on a Thursday for the spinach (sag) sabji, which apparently takes seven hours to cook, and is served with a cornmeal roti that I'm intrigued to try. Or maybe I'll check in with a pal for the Panjabi afternoon tea- selections of samosas and pakoras and Panjabi sweets, washed down with spiced tea - for the ruinous sum of £11.95 for two.

Everything we ate here tasted appreciably superior to the standard equivalent, an effect I put down to the careful touch of the ladies in the kitchen. Chutneys that accompany the crusty pakora and samosas, for example, are at a different level because they are handmade, so you get juicy red onion, mint and tamarind, or a carrot chutney (best with samosas apparently), or a startling lemon, ginger, red chilli and mustard-seed pickle. I'll be first in the queue when they start selling the latter in jars. And while shop-bought Indian desserts are often hallucinogenic in their sweetness, yet otherwise vapid, the lovingly made barfi, besan and ladoo at Ranjit's are subtle, and taste of natural ingredients, like chickpea flour and almonds.

As for the paratha (spelt parantha here), they could prove addictive. With their blistered surfaces and squidgy centres, they deliver some of the satisfaction to be had from a great potato scone, only with a warm, scented Panjabi waft. Their wonderful taste might not be unrelated to the fact that the ladies in the kitchen use ghee (clarified butter) to make them, which I'm persuaded is a much healthier, and infinitely more delicious option than refined cooking oil. Our paratha stuffed with fresh fenugreek leaves, served hot from the tava, was a knock-out, and the plain one, which made a humble plinth for crumbly, homemade paneer "scrambled" with peas, was not far behind.

I can no longer remember whether the thyme-like roasted ajwain seeds scented the sweet butternut squash sabji, or in the curry of chickpea dumplings in a balmy yogurt sauce - it's hard to keep up with the twists and turns of Panjabi spicing - but trust me, it was expert.

I learnt about this place via Twitter, a tip-off much appreciated. And do feel free to tweet me @JoannaBlythman if you are sitting on a secret as hot as Ranjit's Kitchen.