It’s not difficult to conjure up the stereotypical Indian restaurant scene. Plush red-velvet seating, palm fronds, flock wallpaper, smart waiters carrying trays of lager to an inebriated post-pub crowd, and all set to an tinny east-meets-west soundtrack. Newer Indian eateries might serve up fusion cuisine in sleek, modern surroundings, but for food without the frills you’ll have to seek out a no-nonsense caff-style establishment such as Bradford’s Kashmir, the oldest restaurant in what has become the curry capital of the UK. Originally catering for the needs of the Asian community when it opened in 1957, it has stayed doggedly true to its roots – and won a whole new legion of fans in the process.

From 11am to 3am every day of the week, footsteps of hungry diners clatter down the steps to the basement of the Kashmir, with an unpretentious neon sign pointing the way. Plastic chairs are tucked under formica tables, and as the jugs of tap water and unbreakable glasses are brought out, you can’t help but be reminded of a school canteen. But scratch any grim memories of boiled veg and frozen burgers, this is the finest Indian cooking, from the soil of Kashmir. Regulars grab a seat and quickly order their food; for them, menus are almost superfluous, having honed down their favourite dish during years of loyal attendance. People less familiar with the Kashmir’s idiosyncracies might sit upstairs where the décor is slightly less austere, but wherever they’re sitting, the food is equally wonderful. To start, freshly cooked bhajis, samosas or kebabs, all for under a pound and served with a saucer of onion, tomato and spicy mint yoghurt for dipping. And then to the main course: there’s no gentle persuasion from waiters to over-order numerous side dishes and unwanted pilaus, you simply get your perfectly spiced korma, madras, bhuna or rogan josh clattering onto the table in a melamine bowl, followed by a wedge of complimentary nans or chapatis which you use to scoop up your food in the absence of any knives or forks. It’s the epitome of no-frills presentation, but you won’t find anyone complaining. In fact, quite the opposite.

Indian food is so omnipresent in our culture that it’s easy to become blasé about curry, but the old family recipes used at the Kashmir inspire a quite extraordinary devotion. In recent years diners have flown in from Paris to eat here, businessmen from the US will take a train all the way from London for their fix of chicken masala, and the scenario of motorists making extensive detours across the Pennines to co-incide with a lunchtime arrival in Bradford are extremely common. When you first lay eyes on the place as you walk around the corner from Bradford’s Alhambra Theatre, you might be astonished at the effort people are prepared to make, but Modassar Bashir, nephew of the owner, Mohammed Latif, explains it in typically understated fashion. “It’s nothing flash, nothing flamboyant – some might say it’s even a little outdated – but we want to keep that traditional feel that we started off with. We’ve won our awards, we’ve proven ourselves with our food. And for us, that’s what’s it’s all about. The food.”

Interview – Modassar Bashir:

What are the origins of the Kashmir?
It was started in the late 1950s by my uncle, Mohammed Latif, to cater for for the growing Asian population in Bradford at the time. Bradford has always been very friendly towards immigrants – just round the corner there’s a German church and a Polish community centre – and my uncle’s family made their home here in the 1950s along with many other Asians. Soon there was a large demand for Asian food and also the opportunity to get together and socialise, and so the Kashmir opened in response to that. People came here to play cards after work, and for them it became like a home from home.

How did your clientele change over the years?
When it opened, and in fact up until the 1980s, it was a very, very small brick room downstairs. Very slowly non-Asians came to know about us. The first interest came from students, who came here knowing that they could get really good food at low prices. Then the students would bring their parents, and slowly word started spreading as curiosity built up about Indian cuisine. In the end we had to expand, firstly upstairs and then into the premises next door.

What was on the menu in those early days?
The Asian community was such a poor community – every penny that they earned had to be saved or sent back home – so it really mattered for them to have good, inexpensive food. My family is from the Pakistani part of Kashmir, and when we opened it was exactly as it was in the bazaars back home – a small family kitchen cooking three things: chicken, keema (mince) and meat curry. That’s all. No Madras, no Vindaloo, no Bhuna.

So how has the menu changed over the years?
When non-Asians started coming here in the 1970s, the menu did expand, slowly. So of course we now have the vindaloos and chicken tikka masalas. No restaurant could get away with just selling chicken, keema and meat these days, but at the same time our customers are still 50% from the Asian community, so we still keep the original, authentic dishes like the Kashmiri korma, and we still serve the food without cutlery, although if you ask for a knife and fork nowadays, you’ll get them!

What’s your favourite dish from the restaurant?
[laughs] It’s difficult… it depends on my mood – Rogan Josh… Lamb Spinach… I’ve grown up with this food, and I do remember going for day trips to Blackpool and taking our food along, and I’d always go for Shami Kebab. With roti and chutney. And I still love it – it’s not a main course, I know, but it’s just unlike any other shami kebab I’ve ever eaten.

How have you remained so popular over the years?
There’s a lot of competition in Bradford nowadays, and some people do want to eat in more upmarket surroundings, so we’ve opened Anams, a larger restaurant which has more modern décor and a broader menu. But The Kashmir, this is our foundation. And people will always keep coming back here.