Of course, if it hadn’t been Shareef, it would have been another Indian caterer. The multi-brand company - Café Rouge, Pizza Hut, Bella Pasta, T.G.I Friday’s - was already flirting with Mediterranean café and Thai pub restaurant concepts.

The company gave the demographics the once-over, seeing for itself that curries were UK ‘n’ all that, and proposed a 50/50 joint venture. The result was Zujuma’s, launched last May in Wimbledon, the first, it was hoped, in a long-term roll out of Whitbread Indian restaurants.

A year later, Shareef finds herself alone. But, judging by the party to celebrate the revamping of the 60-seat Hyderabadi restaurant’s exterior and interior design, she’s not particularly unhappy.

What scuppered the relationship? "What Whitbread had in mind and what I had in mind were slightly different," says Zajuma’s rather elegant owner. "We came from different areas and we were aiming at different things. They’re into a concept which would roll out without difficulty and since my food is highly skilled that wasn’t easy to put into practice."

Shareef adds: "I’m a designer by training. I’ve got certain high standards - fortunately or unfortunately. It gets me into a lot of trouble most of the time."

It’s easy to see what attracted Whitbread to Shareef. A former model for an Indian textile company, she’s the right mix of Indian charm and European sophistication to front any "new concept" Indian restaurant.

Her style of Indian cuisine fulfils all the criteria for what’s British and modern. It’s healthy - no ghee, lots of olive oil; it’s presented in a contemporary way - clean and uncluttered; it’s reasonably priced - £20 average spend per head.

Main courses include: Hyderabadi Biryani - lamb pieces seasoned with yogurt, coriander and mint, layered into saffron rice, served with Baghare Baigan, Raita and Kiwi Salad, £13.95; Fez Un Jun - chicken thighs coated in walnut and pomegranate juice with Saffron Rice, Zeera Tamateh, and Raita, £11.25; Jhinge Tamateh - tiger prawns in a spicy tomato sauce served with Steamed Rice with Mint, Palak Dahl and Aloo Bonde, £13.95.

Moreover, Hyderabadi cuisine fits in perfectly with Britain’s end-of-the-century mish-mash of styles. Which isn’t surprising because Hyderbad has the same kind of cultural mix.

"It’s a crossroads of culture," explains Shareef. "The saffron and the nuts from the Moghuls; the tamarind and coconut from the south: the fusion of both evolved into Hydrabadi cooking. And with all the nawabs and nizams around, there was a hedonistic attitude. When you have all these things, culture thrives and art thrives and I think cooking thrives as well."

According to Shareef, the new crop of Indian restaurateurs, with a minimalist, modern European approach to Indian cuisine, are well placed to take advantage of this kind of world.

"The number of times where, let’s say, the sons have taken over and revamped restaurant sites completely. It’s so exciting. If Indian restaurants are going anywhere, it’s that way forward."

It’s not that Shareef is dismissing the traditional Indian restaurant look. "There are times when customers want nothing but red flock wallpaper. Which is so fantastic. There’s a niche for that. But there is also a niche for something else."

If Zujuma’s is an example of this, then it’s clear that Shareef isn’t talking about exclusivity here, restaurants designed only for foodies with a taste for India. Her aim, she says, when planning the restaurant was to take Hyderabadi cuisine out to the "average" customer without it costing an "arm and a leg".

Which takes her back to musing about Whitbread.

Seriously into casual dining, Whitbread wanted a "commercial" venture. "They wanted a café style of restaurant where it’s easy going and relaxed. By nature I tend to see things in a stylised way. People weren’t receiving it like a café. That’s where the confusion lay."

The techniques used in preparing Hyderbadi food created problems. "All the sauces and juices cook within themselves. It’s a very skillful process." She doesn’t say so, but perhaps it was too skilful, that’s to say, took too long, for an upmarket fast-food company.

The parting was amicable, she insists. Whitbread’s door is always open: "We can still talk to Whitbread in the future."

For now, learning to be on her own, Shareef says she has no plans other than making sure that her customers are kept happy. "I’m taking things one step at a time," she says. "And enjoying myself thoroughly in the process."