Mowgli Street Food, Nottingham: A Monday Night Spice Fix
Lamb Chops, Angry Bird and Mowgli House Lamb.
Last time we visited Mowgli, I’ll admit, the food and wine took over, and we forgot to take any pictures or make notes. Instead, the night dissolved into talk of Man Utd, Forest, music, and the usual banter that happens when three lads get together. This time, Ant suggested a Monday night catch-up. We started off at the Lord Roberts for a pint—for me, it was a Pinot Noir. They stock a nice bottle in that pub; I forget the name, but it subtly muscles in on the standard Merlot, Shiraz, and Malbec you usually find in pubs. It was clear we needed dinner, so after a few drinks, we made our way through Broad Street to the crossroads at Goosegate, Carlton, and Stoney Street.
We glanced at Bar Iberico, but it was packed, and it was far too cold to sit outside. I didn’t fancy South Asian, to be truthful, but the seasonal change had me craving spice—Indian spice. We considered popping into Vi-Va Indian Tapas a few doors down, which also serves great food, but we owed Nottingham Mowgli a review. So, Mowgli it was.
Mowgli Nottingham
We were shown upstairs by a friendly server, and the place had its usual cool, bohemian vibe. Ropes and vines hanging from the ceiling gave it that transportive feeling like you’re wandering the streets of Varanasi. We couldn’t remember what we’d ordered last time (you can imagine the night), but Ant swore we had the Mowgli Chip Butty (£7.50)—a flavour grenade of a dish: roti wrap stuffed with fenugreek-kissed turmeric fries, chilli pickle, red onion, coriander, green chilli, and Mowgli tomato relish. He reckoned someone also had the Office Worker’s Tiffin Box, Mowgli’s version of food roulette—a potluck of four tiers of meat, veg, and carb, picked by the chef like they do in India.
After some deliberation, I opted for the Angry Bird (£9)—succulent chicken thighs marinated in tandoor spices with yoghurt, ginger, and garlic, served with Mowgli slaw—and a plate of Mowgli House Lamb (£9.75), a family recipe, with slow-simmered lamb, anise, plums, and chickpeas. Meanwhile, Ant and Andy both went for Maa’s Lamb Chops & Fenugreek Fries (£12.50). A bottle of Pinot Noir landed on our table shortly after (I’m nothing if not consistent), and we were set.
When the food arrived, I was torn. The lamb was inviting me to dive straight in, but my Angry Bird was too tempting to ignore. That’s the beauty of Indian tapas, though—if you’re a bit of a food rebel like me, you can mix and match, grabbing bits off different plates and throwing them together. Maybe don’t tell the chef.
As we tucked in, the service remained quick and efficient, and the atmosphere started to buzz—what began as a quiet Monday night was soon filling up. The lamb was melt-in-your-mouth tender, and the tandoor spices on the chicken thighs balanced beautifully with the cool slaw. Just as I was finishing, the waiter came over with a side of chilli oil. “You wanted more heat?” he asked. I’d forgotten about that. Clearly, the chef didn’t want to overpower the delicate balance of spices, so this off-the-menu extra was the perfect solution. I could dial up the heat as I liked, without compromising the flavours of the dishes.
The lads’ lamb chops disappeared in no time, and my food envy kicked in, so I ordered a plate of those as well. By the time the extra dish arrived, we were already stuffed, but we made short work of it anyway. We took pictures this time, though my attempts at a ‘food dive’ photo weren’t quite successful—Ant’s camera skills kept capturing the top of my head, and I think I spotted a grey hair. That one might not make it onto social media!
The verdict was unanimous: Mowgli delivers great Indian tapas that fills your stomach and transports you straight to the streets of India. Clearly, Nisha hasn’t let the team take their foot off the gas, ensuring every dish is well-prepared, cooked, and served to perfection. If you haven’t been yet, make the trip. Walk-ins are welcome, but I’d recommend booking, especially later in the week. Mondays, though—those you might just get lucky with.