Homemade or not, I don't think frying the cheese is as optional as Toombs suggests – given that, in his words, it makes the paneer "melt in your mouth crispy on the outside and nice and warm in the centre", why wouldn't you?
Add the chopped, dry spinach and paneer and stir vigorously until hot – it should catch a little, but watch it doesn't burn.
In India, this dish is known as palak paneer – saag is actually just a generic word for greens, but mustard leaves, purslane and fresh fenugreek being harder to come by in the UK, spinach, or palak, is generally used.
It's worth checking out the specials board but the chicken tikka masala is a safe bet, as is the muttar paneer – homemade cottage cheese and green peas cooked in spicy capsicum and tomato sauce.
Though saag paneer is almost always served dry in British Indian restaurants, Jaffrey and Stein finish theirs with single cream and yoghurt respectively, with Stein suggesting a little double cream too "for a richer dish".
The okra fries are an exquisite and generous entree; the fig, pomegranate and cashew kofta is to die for; and the saag paneer is the best I've had in Melbourne – with fresh, smoked Indian cheese buried in tangy spinach and garlic sauce.
Saag paneer is always powerfully alliaceous – garlic is a must, and Rick Stein's India, the India and Pakistan volume of Charmaine Solomon's excellent Complete Asian Cookbook, Dhali and Toombs all add onion too, the last deploying it in its red form.
The paneer butter masala is a particular winner.
Saag paneer: do you prefer it wet, Indian-style, or the drier British equivalent?
Heat the ghee in a large heavy based frying pan on a medium-high heat and fry the paneer cubes, in batches if necessary, until golden and crusted.
Inevitably it's a spicy lamb curry from the chef's specials, with tarka dal and saag paneer, accompanied by a plain naan, ideally one the size of the napkin.
