THE thing that really amazed me about Fat Buddha was the speed of it all.

My fellow diner Rachel and I were seated at 7.30pm, eating within five minutes, and spat back out into the chill Durham air barely an hour after first arriving, both now resembling the restaurant’s eponymous character.

Yet the rapidity of the food’s arrival at our two-seater table on Fat Buddha’s upper floor in no way diminished from its quality.

It was three courses of flavoursome flourishes and marvellous mouthfuls only punctuated by mumbled, almost ecstatic groans of delight at our shared indulgence on the bank of the River Wear. Fat Buddha was named best restaurant in Durham in 2008 and 2009, and whenever I ask anyone about it, they always give the same response, namely “mmmmmm” followed by some slight salivating and the misty-eyed look inspired by the memory of some joyous experience.

I was last there three years ago for a colleague’s leaving do and my abiding memory of the place, other than it was quite dark, was that my meal was served in a carved out pineapple.

Well, it is still quite dark, I think it is called mood lighting, and as I couldn’t remember the name of my prickly-plated dinner I decided to order as if I had no previous experience of the place.

It was a good theory although it made for much deliberation over the menu with dishes divided up by their country of origin.

Having concluded my brief tour of Asia, and shunned the delicacies of Hong Kong, Japan, Malaysia, Thailand and Korea, I opted for China’s offering of a Roasted Duck (£10.50) for my main, preceded by prawn and sea weed dumplings (£6.30).

Rachel started with the assorted vegetable tempura basket (£5.80) swiftly followed by the Thai green king prawn curry (£11.50). We shared a portion of coconut rice (£2.80) for the main.

My prawn and seaweed dumplings were salty and crunchy with long strands of thin crisp batter which would have been intolerably dry if it were not for the pleasant portion of sweet chilli sauce served alongside them. It was a tasty morsel before the proper dish arrived.

Rachel’s vegetables were also covered with a crisp batter and served with a soy dipping sauce, her slurpings and mutterings denoting pleasure as she polished off the starter. The Chinese Roasted Duck was exquisite, simple but oozing flavour.

The duck was sliced, a rich layer of slightly crisp fat running down each chunky piece all served in a tangy salty soy-type sauce that mixed delightfully with the sweetness of the rice. It was incredibly moreish despite there being ample meat, a savoury dish to savour.

Rachel enjoyed her curry, thick juicy prawns swimming in a viscous green sauce with chunks of spicy vegetables.

I am not a spice fan, my tender tastebuds quickly overwhelmed by the unpleasant sting of a strong curry, and Rachel’s Thai green certainly had one heck of a kick and was fully deserving of the two red warning signs beside its listing in the menu.

Having called me soft and a myriad of other insults orientated around my feeble spice-handling capabilities, she finished the green with great gusto.

After a brief respite my dessert arrived.

I say my dessert because Rachel had declared herself fully satisfied from a hunger point of view. I believe her exact words were “I could not manage another thing at all” followed by a long exhalation of air as if to try and empty some of the fullness now afflicting her comfort. Naturally however, this did not stop her enjoying large chunks of my soft and squidgy hot sponge pudding, with a beautiful marble effect chocolate sauce flowing forth over its edges and served with scoops of soft, creamy vanilla ice cream.

Bill Bryson once said that the English will tolerate almost anything being done to their food, such as pretentious names and ridiculous portions, but don’t mess with their puddings.

It is a lesson that Fat Buddha adheres to wonderfully, a selection of tasty but very British desserts deviating from the rest of the Asian cuisine.

The restaurant’s upper level is dominated by a catwalk, an illuminated walkway carving its way between the plush booths and tables, giving one the feeling of being a model as one sashays towards the gentleman’s room.

It is a great feature and must surely be a talking point for most visitors, much like the low tables lined with cushions in the rooms for larger parties partitioned off deep at the back of the building.

Atmospheric and appetising, Fat Buddha may well have you feasting speedily but it is an eating out experience to savour.