The men in the corner booth lick the rice and dal from their fingers as they might at a dhaba in Delhi. If it weren’t for the Hooters and Hair Cuttery nearby, you’d swear that’s where you were.
The sprawling buffet at these bright luncheon halls ranges from Mumbai to Madras, as does the clientele. Very little is dumbed down for the fair-skinned: Ginger, cumin, and the occasional whiff of asafetida are all out in force, and the heat can be throat-clearing. Butter Chicken melts with tomato and spice, and sharp ginger studs the stir-fried string beans. Idli and uttappam, southern signatures, suffer in the steam trays, but the dosas remain worthy of their fiery sambar.
The food here is by Indians, for Indians. Just watch the guys in the corner.
Open daily for lunch and dinner.
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June 01, 2007 |
Reviewed by
Todd Kliman
,
Ann Limpert
,
Cynthia Hacinli
,
Don Rockwell
,
Michele Kayal
