As the curry house established itself as a British institution, more flourished around Shish Mahal. In 1979, when Mr. Aslam renovated the place, he reopened with a clever gimmick: all of the original 1964 prices, for a limited time. This led to long, frenzied lines down the block. In photos taken around this time, Mr. Aslam is handsome and beaming, in a tuxedo jacket and bow tie, with the thick, floppy hair of a movie star.
There were just a few hundred curry houses in Britain when Mr. Aslam opened Shish Mahal; by the time Mr. Cook delivered his speech, there were thousands. Mr. Aslam, though not named in the speech, had become an essential part of Britain’s story of itself.
Though two of his sons took over ownership of Shish Mahal in 1994, Mr. Aslam never officially retired, and he continued to drive his white Jaguar to work and to wear the exquisite suits he had tailored on Savile Row. Known for his relentless work ethic, he considered himself a proud Glaswegian, a Scotsman through and through.
The dish, which grew far bigger than the man, was just as likely to be a symbol of British comfort food as one of inauthenticity. Though more recent surveys have named other curries, such as chicken jalfrezi, as the most popular in Britain, chicken tikka masala is pervasive. It is found on airplanes and as a pizza topping, at fast-food chains and premade in jars on grocery shelves all over the world.
Shish Mahal closed for 48 hours in honor of Mr. Aslam and posted news of his death on its Facebook page. A multigenerational fan base of Glaswegians joined in remembering the restaurant.
“Enjoyed my first ever proper curry at the Shish Mahal on Gibson Street,” wrote one fan, Wendy Russell. “A cheeky chicken Madras.”
From the responses across social media, it was clear that the restaurant had also become part of the fabric of the city. Over the years, Mr. Aslam welcomed generations of tipsy teenagers, who had waited in the cold after the pubs closed, as well as new parents who handed pieces of warm naan over to their babies to gum. Families had become regulars. What many seemed to remember wasn’t the famous dish, but rather the man who had made them feel at home.
Isabella Kwai contributed reporting from London.
