When the Taj opened its first proper Indian restaurant (the Apollo Room in the 1960s), everybody else was happy to serve a Kwality-style Punjabi cuisine which consisted of tandoori chicken and oily curries. The Taj made several innovations. One: it redis-covered the cuisines of the rest of India (would there be a Trishna if the Taj hadn't first made coastal food trendy elsewhere in the country?). Two: it put Indian snack food on coffee-shop menus. (Nobody else had ever served pav bhaji or a dosa in an airconditioned restaurant.) And three: because its two senior chefs (Satish Arora and Arvind Saraswat) were geniuses, it changed the approach to Indian food, dispensing with the oil and the thick Kwality-style gravies. Sadly, the chain didn't always act on these innovations. For instance, Handi pre-dated Dum Pukht by many years with the same kind of cuisine, but Dum Pukht gets all the hype. This is a list of some outstanding Taj restaurants. It has one notable omission. I couldn't decide which of Ananda Solomon's two brilliant restaurants at the President to include. Should it be Thai Pavilion or Konkan Cafe? (My honest opinion is both, but that would have unbalanced the list.) Besides, Ananda's brilliance is now the stuff of culinary legend, so he doesn't need any more endorsements.

The Golden Dragon, Bombay:
The restaurant that started it all. The Dragon introduced us to Szechwan food in the 1970s, and I don't know of a single Chinese restaurant in the country that hasn't copied something or the other from the Dragon. It has had its bad spells, but the food has retained its former glory. The Bombay Taj is fortunate to have Hemant Oberoi, India's most sophisticated and accomplished chef, at its helm. Hemant's influence ensures that the Dragon remains ahead of the cliches of Szechwan Restaurants & Reviews and serves light and trendy Chinese food that you could well have found in a top New York restaurant. Order anything you like from the menu - the standard is universally high. But be warned: they do not take kindly to China Garden-style vulgarians in loud shirts who demand Chicken Manchurian or Tam Yum Soup ("What do you mean Tam Yum is not Chinese? Nelson serves it and he is a Chinaman.")

Beach House, Goa:
I know that it is wrong to reduce India's greatest tourist attraction to a single restaurant but the truth is that each time I think of Goa, I think only of the food. One of the more interesting sidelights for the visiting foodie at the Aguada Complex is the friendly rivalry between two excellent chefs. Thomas Braganza at the Aguada and Rego at the Holiday Village. Rego's Beach House wins because Thomas does not have the advantage of as wonderful a restaurant in which to serve his food. The Beach House is a bamboo structure with benches and no air-conditioning which utterly and completely captures the flavour of Goa. Rego's food is to die for (and may die with him, unless he finally agrees to share his kitchen secrets). From a simple dish like a freshly-caught fish sauteed with reichade masala to the world's best vindaloo with button onions - there is nothing I would not recommend.

The Orient Express, Delhi:
The original concept was slightly gimmicky. The first course would have dishes from those parts of the world that the train started from, the entrees would come from Europe and the desserts from Turkey. Fortunately, that idea has been junked and The Orient Express is now India's finest French restaurant, bar none. The service is outstanding and the food is not just terrifically presented but also mingles flavours with an expert hand. From my point of view, what makes this a considerable achievement is that no expat chefs have been involved. The success of The Orient Express proves that when given a chance, Indian chefs can beat the expats any time.
I recommend the foie gras which crops up on the menu in various guises. Ask also for the steak, sliced thinly and served on a bed of caramelised onions. The signature dessert is the chocolate fondant (or souffle). It is served hot and when you first dig your fork into it a wonderfully thick dark chocolate sauce emerges from inside.

Southern Spice, Chennai:
I know of no restaurant in the world that tries to serve authentic Kerala, Chettinad, Andhra, Hyderabad and Mangalorean food from a single kitchen. When I heard that the Taj Coromandel in Madras was going to attempt this over-ambitious task, I was sceptical. But let me be the first to admit that I was completely wrong. Southern Spice is a triumph at all levels. The food is excellent, the service is knowledgeable and helpful and - this is crucial - the restaurant manages to be packed out night after night despite refusing to compromise on the authenticity of the cuisines. Southern Spice was the brainchild of Chef Nat (his full name is Natarajan) who toiled for three years researching the cuisines. It is hard to pick favourites, but don't miss out on the pickles and the chutneys, the Alleppy fish curry, and the appams which are made to a recipe passed on by the mother of one of the chefs.

Karavalli, Bangalore:
If there is a boom in coastal food today, this is where it started. When Karavalli first opened at the Gateway Hotel in Bangalore, cynical chefs sneered that the adventurous menu of coastal specialities would last for two menus before being replaced with the usual butter chicken. It is a tribute to the culinary and PR skills of Chef Sriram that he, almost single-handedly, made Karavalli one of the most talked about restaurants in India and took coastal food to the position it now occupies. Go there for the seafood (but try not to ask for crab in garlic butter, this is not a Mangalorean dish) but don't ignore the curries - the true test of any South Indian restaurant. Sriram now cooks at the Quilon in London but Chef Thimayya has effortlessly stepped into his shoes without the cuisine suffering.