Chapati 3

Went in here late on Tuesday night after being in town for a gig. Stupidly we/​I decided to get food on the way home rather than in town. Doh. Daft idea. I was forgetting it was a Tuesday night… so stepped off the train at Partick & our eyes were met with blackness… no where was open! Oh no. I expected at least one wee chippy or Chinese take-​away to be open but nope, nowt. So was just about to give up when I remembered the Chapati 3 ~ I often used to frequent the other Chapati (Chapati 4, on Byres road) late mid-​week after a drinky-​poos or 4 at the Arlington. I remembered they always stayed open a bit later than other take-​away joints nearby. I also remember fondly the graffiti that used to be outside the shop that said ‘Free the Chapati 5!’ Ha, ha! Oh them funny students…
Luckily my spidey senses were indeed correct; the Chapati 3 was indeed open. Yas. So we ordered a medium cheese & onion pizza & some chips, hardly haute cuisine but it was just what we needed.
Pizza was actually really quite good ~ not a patch on your handmade, Italian base delights I usually prefer but what do you expect from a wee take-​away joint like this? It was loaded with cheese & it wasn’t drowning in tomato base — both good to me.
I was expecting the chips to be a bit rubbish (like most kebab/​late night take-​away joint chips usually are…) but I have to say these chips were pretty damn good also ~ not dry & horrendously over-​cooked like I have experienced in other similar places.
Only 3 stars coz I am still to try their curries/​meat dishes. But this looks to me like a wee late night delight in Partick.

So I’m gonna say boo and I’m gonna mean it. Boo!
T’was late in the day. T’was ⁴⁄₅ (read 6) drinks past drunk o’clock. T’was time to get my sorry bottom home. T’was time for a chippy!
With glee in my heart and a spring in my step, I bounded toward the neon lights with cash in hand and cholesterol level rising in sheer anticipation of the forthcoming onslaught.
What to have, what to have. Well, this joint appeared to stock all the old drunken favorites, with perhaps more of a leaning toward the curry end of the market. ‘Good’ methinks, ‘a wee jolt of curry sauce on the chips will suit just splendidly’ continued my inner monologue (I do hopes it WAS inner, or those people really did have justification to look at me in that odd manner).
This, dear reader, is where the dream dies. If the dream was a bird, it would have been shot. Run over. Reconstructed with painstaking accuracy. Left on the road. Run over. Shot. Run over again. Kicked repeatedly and finally told that it’s mother was a Dodo and it’s father was a drunken Stoat. Dead.
So… Off I toddles into the brisk night with chips and curry sauce in hand/​plastic bag. To wait for home or to munch enroute was the dilema. Whilst I pondered this, my hands ignored the official route of decision making and plundered with vim and vigor into the steamy food chalice.
With great anticipation the chips were raised toward gob… and then blah. Nowt. In place of what should have been this: ‘Oh yeah, chips and curry sauce. Aces and such!’ was this ‘eh… who just poured watered down essence of water, that was once told a story that referred to curry sauce briefly, on ma chips?’.
Pure not happy by the way. So yeah. With a meaningful ‘boo’ I say this. That was rubbish. I hope it was a one off, but for the sake of this visit. I’d have to stick to the 2 star.

Kebab meat pizza. Scrummy when your a little drunk and great breakfast in the morning.