Just A Bite: a meal worth clapping for
How a Denmark Hill food van serves the types of Indian meals NHS frontline workers love - and deserve!
Desi Food Guide will be available to paid subscribers for £5/month or £50/year. This is the first of four posts that will be free to give you a taste of what’s to be served up every week…
Part of the pain of having an estranged relationship with my mother is that many memories of my childhood are missing. Even simple recollections are fragmented. And this is especially marked when it comes to my parents’ working lives.
My Malay mother was employed by the NHS all her life but, tellingly, small details, such as what she would eat during her lunch break allude me. But, maybe, this is the fate for all emotionally neglected children - our parents were such an amorphous presence that we have redacted the everyday images ‘normal’ people retain.
What I do know is that she was on nights at Luton and Dunstable hospital A&E and towards the end of her working life she became a district nurse - then she often would drive home for lunch, heating up biryani or beef rendang in the microwave.
But when she worked at the hospital I imagine she took sandwiches or ate out of vending machines. The hospital was near Bury Park in Luton, which had a significant Pakistan population, so in theory she could have grabbed some spice but I remember she always preferred her food.
The only time I ever saw her at work was when I was taken in an ambulance to A&E when I broke my collarbone playing rugby at a school match. She wasn’t happy to see me and was annoyed that all the other members of staff were fussing over me.
In truth, she was angry at not just me but a lot of her world. She suffered from the trauma of racism, mostly at the hands of her patients. So everyday items, such as Pakistani-style curry powder, didn’t escape her ire.
She did love desi food though and I’m sure her admiration for the tandoor - which has been passed down to me - would’ve meant she’d have eaten some tikka if the opportunity was there.
But in the 1970s or 80s, especially during the day, I don’t think it would’ve been possible.
In 2025, though, I’ve found the type of place where she would’ve feasted. At an industrial estate near King’s Hospital in SE London, you’ll happen upon nurses (and doctors, and all types of hospital workers) on their lunch breaks tucking into chicken tikka pieces, kebabs and even masala fish and chips.
The “venue” is a food van called Just A Bite run by British-Kenyan-Indian, Bharat Patel, who has worked in catering for 26 years and believes the clamour for his lunches are down to years and years of tinkering with the right spice mix. (He first trained to be a graphic designer, so appreciate his logo on the truck, please!)
In 2003, he was lauded by British writer Pat Chapman, who wrote one of the first (legit) curry guides which led to these type of awards, and Bharat once ran a desi club in Norbury, south London, called Dosti, near the Just A Bite prep kitchen.
But to land here in Denmark Hill is odd. It’s bizarre that in such a bleak, concrete location - literally everywhere you look is brick, tarmac or truck wheels, despite being so near Ruskin Park - you can have such transcendent food.
Now I’m not saying something as hyperbolic as one bite whisks you to the Kenya savannahs of Bharat’s childhood but the spicing is so balanced that it offsets the heat of the chili; and tastes far more regal than you’d expect food to be at a polluted business park just off a forgotten part of Coldharbour Lane.
The tikka pieces are almost burnt, crispy on the outside but delicately soft in the middle, while masala chips have a zesty coating of ginger and cumin. I’m a complete fan boy for the mint chutney that doesn’t scrimp on the fire - imagine a Nelson Muntz ‘ha! ha!’ if you thought this was a green coolant.
And then the masala chips have that sour edge (possibly the amchoor, AKA mango powder) that sometimes can be cloying in this mix but here we have the ‘Bharat balance’ of his perfect spicing quantities.
I feel like all this desi food - especially with its budget pricing - is perhaps a better tribute to our frontline health workers than virtue signalling, such as the competitive clapping of lockdown. I’m a tourist here even with my parental credentials - ‘step back! My mum was a nurse! - and I’m willing to tolerate the many people in front of me with lists. “20 chicken tikkas, 17 kebabs…” That is slightly ridiculous and my top tip is to go early or late. You know when normal people aren’t eating lunch.
Or you could be even more savvy … The Just A Bite van caters for large parties - now I’m not saying it’s worth asking your partner to marry you just to have this food at the wedding reception. (Actually do it, and invite me).
And there’s another vehicle at Strutton Ground Market near Victoria, which is probably a better option as you can take the food to the nearby Speaker Pub for some excellent cask beer to have with your lunch. (Pair the near-burnt tikka with a stout or porter; the masala fish and chips with a craft lager: see below)
This incarnation, though, leans more heavily towards Chinese in Indo-Chinese and dials down the heat - so, of course, I’m telling you to head to the polluted industrial estate and hope the weather is good enough to eat the food in the park.
Or start studying to be a doctor.
You might think Strutton Ground Market is the better option but Indian food really isn’t the same without the heat provided in the marination - it needs to soak into the skin of the chicken, fish, lamb and paneer. Otherwise it won’t be worth queueing for.
And believe me you’ll be OK waiting in line with our great NHS staff because the resulting desi fare will be your finest lunch ever.
Lunchtimes Mon-Fri
King’s College Hospital Business Park,
129-131 Coldharbour Lane, SE5 9NY