RIGHT now we're playing roulette, although we don't actually realise it.

It goes like this. I pick up a bullet chilli pakora, bite it and and say: "mmm, yeah, these are good, mate" as the crisp batter is crunched through to the fresh mild, dark green chilli underneath. My chum Steveo, a top tabloid journalist once known in the trade as Two Brains, is doing the same.

Curiously, we're actually chatting about rumours of a great tips rip-off by some restaurant bosses when there's a whump, and a crump inside my head as if something just caught fire. Uh-oh, I think shaking my head slowly. This chilli wasn't disarmed.

What follows next is a classic example of man-trying-to-look-nonchalant-whilst-dying. I think I get away with casually draining every single drop of liquid on the table, then ramming almost a whole nan into my mouth without Steve noticing.

He continues talking anyway though I can't speak any more. To avoid sucking on the table cloth to damp the agonising flames I lean over and tear off a big chunk of Steve's rava onion dosa masala - while he's actually eating it. Now he notices.

"Hot," I croak, jabbing at the supposed-to-be-mild-pakoras. The funny thing about all this is that the last place you expect to swallow a culinary bomb is in a meek vegetarian restaurant. I'm now hors de combat for about five minutes and can only look at the spread of food, all of which I have tasted and already enjoyed.

Paneer pakora, with homemade cheese and mint; hara bhara kebab; spiced, fresh spinach peas and potato; rasam, a lovely cuminy soup underlined with face-suckingly tart tamarind; batata bonda, fabulous coconut and curry leave potato dumplings; and vada pa - a spiced potato sandwich.

There are also fresh chutneys and yoghurts including one that moments ago I may have up-ended and drunk. This table is filled to overflowing, partly because we ordered so many small street food dishes, and partly because the tables in here are ludicrously small and a little uncomfortable. The couple at the booth beside us are also very close. When I came in I was first directed to a table at a window, which I think may once have been the entrance, but it was so tight I had to move. And I'm not really hugely plump.

Glaswegians will probably know that Usha here has opened at a spot at the bottom of Byres Road and Dumbarton Road which may just hold the city record for the fastest turnover of restaurants. It's the Bermuda Triangle of food. They disappear at an alarming rate.

Perhaps that's why the front door seems to have been moved from right on the junction to a new spot on Byres Road. It baffled me so much earlier that I twice tried to get in what turned out to be two separate windows.

Anyway, chilli fire out, a return to that rava onion masala dosa finds the dosa itself to be bland, unseasoned, clammy and completely tasteless. Useful for dealing with emergencies, but otherwise not up to much.

The Mysore masala dosa, on the other hand, is a triumph: a delicious mix of spices, mashed potatoes, onions, mustard leaves and crisp, papery dosa.

We ordered by way of a let's-have-some curry-too a tarka dal, and aloo matar and they come in small, cold-looking dishes. I wouldn't order them again. After the sparkle of the street-food they seem sludgy and dull and they're unattractively presented.

Vegetarian street food is what it's about here, I'd avoid the rest. That's a good selling point, though, because Glasgow is apparently the vegan restaurant capital of the UK but poorly served for vegetarian food.

It's only let down badly by the lay-out and tight tables which, strangely in a vegetarian restaurant, smack of crudely maximising turnover at the cost of comfort. But the food alone is worth a visit.

Usha's

2 Byres Road,

Glasgow

0844 884 9399

Menu: Vegetarian Indian street food and it's far more exciting than that sounds with a great selection. Non street food options odd and not recommended. 4

Atmosphere: Tables are in some cases seem ridiculously small and too close together, price of packing them is a serious let down for comfort. 2

Service: Generally good, moved tables when asked, explained what various dishes were, youngsters serving mostly. 4

Price: Graze away to your heart's content on the small plate options which come in reasonable portions at around £4 to £5. not bad at all. 5

Food: Some great, light, fresh and full flavoured dishes including the batata bonda, rasam, those potato fritters and that occasionally dangerous pakora. Curries dullsville Arizona. Overall well worth a try despite discomfort. 8

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