Accidental Hedonist

I’ve often joked about how I must have been Indian in my past life. I can probably eat Indian food like comfort food every day. I have oversized bags of garam masala, asafoetida and black mustard seeds in my spice drawer. I crave salty lassis. My ultimate comfort food is jasmine rice with yogurt and lime pickle. I’ve waxed poetic about the flavors and spices to my friends and family.

For the last four days, I have had nothing but Indian food and it has been absolutely glorious. I’ve been asked if I’m tired of it, if I want something else, but I’m quite content eating as much pakora, naan, daal and other delicacies. I have wanted to recommend a few restaurants to you if you live in New York, or if you happen to be in town having the same craving for Indian food, I’ve had for the last week.

On Thursday night, to celebrate a very special occasion, KS and I went to Moksha – sinking our teeth into a lamb shank, fried lotus root, and spicy okra. The restaurant is peaceful, quiet, beautifully lit. At the entrance, over the bar, there’s a reclining statue greeting you. The food is creative new Indian cuisine as opposed to a more casual, traditional fare most of us are used to – but make no mistake, the dishes are expertly prepared and beautifully served. My one regret and wish was to see a better, more extensive wine and cocktail list – it kind of seemed like an after-thought to the food, but could have been a wonderful complement.

Friday night, as KS was hosting a boys’ poker night, a friend and I went to sample exotic cocktails and Indian street food at Bombay Talkie. The place, a recommendation from a friend was just the perfect continuation of the Indian fix I needed. My salty lassi went perfectly with my eggplant and beans and my friend, enjoying her Chicken briyani, remarked that her lychee martini was the best she ever had. Another upside of Bombay Talkie is its dangerous proximity to Billy’s Bakery – the place of dreamy cupcakes, delectable ice box cakes, and heavenly cookies. While not Indian desserts, the treats are worth saving a space in your stomach. I was a bit greedy at Bombay Talkie. Next time however, Billy’s Bakery is on my list!

Saturday afternoon found us in Southampton for a company barbecue and what luck, it was catered by Diwan. Delectable samosas, spicy lamb, saag paneer and much more floated past us and I was quite greedily and happily shoving all of it in my mouth whenever a tray passed me by. For dessest, kulchi – my favorite – ice cream so creamy and ever-so-lightly flavored with pistachios. Diwan, which serves some of the most remarkable Indian food in the city, is also responsible for bringing us Jackson Diner, which incidentally, is where we found ourselves Sunday afternoon.

I know, most people would probably opt for something lighter in this heat and humidity. But not us. Give us chana masala and goat curry or else! The thing about Jackson Diner is how well run the establishment is. Besides serving up some of the best Northern Indian cuisine around, the buffet served on Sundays from 12-4pm is only $9.95 per person. Did I mention it is all-you-can-eat? As in you could have 2 full plates (and that’s an achievement) and still go back for more. They won’t say anything, but you might just go into an eternal food coma. This food isn’t light.

I know, it sounds like I would swear off Indian food forever, but quite the contrary – I cannot get enough. In fact, I was really craving a dosa for lunch today. But I forced myself to have a salad instead, telling myself over and over that variety is indeed the spice of life. But perhaps tomorrow, there might just be a dosa in my future!

Come visit me at

My knowledge of Indian cuisine is fairly minimal, so forgive me if my ignorance shows with this recipe. In looking over various recipes, I’ve noticed a distinct lack of butter in most butter chicken recipes. Oh there’s some, to be sure, but only a tablespoon or two. I’ve remedied that below.

As with most stew-type recipe, this isn’t the end-all be-all recipe for butter chicken. There are many ways to alter this for your own taste – less tomatoes, more spices, etc., etc.

Also, you can use strictly white meat if you wish, but I’m fond of dark meat, and it works well here. Serve with basmati rice.

Marinade

• 1 1/2 lb. boneless, skinless chicken, cut into pieces
• 1 cup plain yogurt
• 1 1/2 tsp. Chili Powder
• 1 1/2 tsp. garam masala
• 1 tsp Coriander Powder
• 1 Tbl. garlic paste
• 1 Tbl. ginger paste
• juice from one lemon
• 1 tsp. salt

Gravy

• 4 Tbls. butter
• 1 cup chopped onion
• 1 Tbls. ginger paste
• 1 Tbls. garlic paste
• 2 cups tomato puree
• 1/4 cup cream
• 1 tsp. garam masala
• 1 tsp. Coriander Powder
• 1 tsp Red Chilli Powder
• 4 tsp. clover honey (optional)

In a large glass bowl, mix in the yogurt, chili powder, garam masala, coriander, garlic paste, ginger paste, lemon and salt. Add the chicken to the yogurt melange, coating thoroughly. Cover the glass bowl with saran wrap and place in the refrigerator. Allow the chicken to marinate for a minimum of 3 hours.

Pre heat oven to 300 degrees. Place marinated chicken in a glass baking dish and place in oven for 15 minutes.

Place large skillet over medium heat. Melt the butter. Sautee the onions until translucent. Add the ginger and onion paste and cook for 1-2 minutes. Add the tomato puree and cream. Add the masal, coriander and chilli powder. Add the chicken, and allow to cook for 10-12 minutes. At this point, add the honey if you’re so inclined.

Serve over rice.

Serves 4

UPDATE: LT from the comments stated “Tried this out last night. While I wouldn’t have called it butter chicken, it was quite good. A little more Tikka Masala like than Butter Chicken like. Also, after the 15 minutes in the oven and then the 10-12 minutes on the stove, the chicken was not cooked through and required another 10 minutes on the stove.”

Technorati Tags: recipes, Indian Cuisine, Butter Chicken, Chicken

India Bistro
2301 NW Market St

Seattle, WA 98107
Phone: (206) 783-5080

What I wanted to do was research and write a review on an Indian restaurant. I had it all set. the witty banter, the self-depracating humor, my knowledge of how potatoes made it to India. I was so THERE!. I had chosen a slam dunk in Indian Food in Seattle: India Bistro. If you check on the boards and the newspapers, this place always gets good to high marks.

Alas, fates were against me as my timing was always off. I try to hit the restaurants I review more than one time in order to try different dishes and see how they stack up on different nights. It’s the only ethical rule I really apply to myself, or at least so I thought. But each time I went to the Bistro, there was a variable that prevented me from giving the restaurant my full attention. Usually it had to do with the fact that India Bistro likes its Buffet line for lunch. My bias against buffets was preventing me from doing a proper review of it’s evening menu items.

So last night I drove out to Ballard to sit and eat by myself, take proper notes, and hopefully have a decent Indian dinner.

I got there about twenty after five, and the place was closed. But there was also a line of about a dozen people or so waiting for the place to open. And as I am never one to complain about waiting (especially when I carry a book in tow), I simply waited.

The door to the place opened about ten minutes later, and everyone who was waiting in line was seated quickly. I would like to give a quick shout out to the woman who pushed herself in front of me as I think it helps demonstrate how much people like India Bistro, as well as shows how petty I can be to those without manners. As I was being poured an icy glass of water, a very official looking man came out and stated “Thank you all for waiting. The food (dramatic pause) is ready.” He then stepped aside to show…

…Another buffet line.

Son of a bitch!

I was confused, befuddled. I looked at the others who migrated quickly to the buffet line, but they were obviously hypnotized by the nature of buffet lines and the promise of “All you can eat”. I looked to the the official looking man. He saw my confusion and came over.

“Are you not serving menu items today?” I asked.

“Today, I am giving back to the commmunity. It’s our anniversary, so we have a free meal to all of our customers. So no menu today. Try the food, as we made it special for the celebration!”

I was hesitant. “It’s a buffet line!”, I kept reminding myself. Plus, you can’t really review food from a buffet line, if that’s not what the restaurant is known for. I considered putting the review off for another week or so and heading to another restaurant. And then the voice of reason shouted in my head.

“It’s a free meal ya’ dink!”. My subconscious is a pragmatic bitch at times.

I walked up to the buffet and indulged.

I could tell you about the smoky flavor of the Goat Marsala, and the inherent spiciness of the Marsala sauce. I could tell you how moist the Tandori Chicken or how sweet the Tandori Lamb was. I could extrapolate on the hint of Jamsine that permeated the Basmati rice. I could easily let you know of the sweetness of the Aloo Gohbi (potatoes and cauliflower in a curry sauce). I could tell you all of this and be telling the truth. Of course it will also let you know that I actually enjoyed the food from the buffet line, and that’s a thought I cannot readily wrap my mind around. A decent buffet line… who knew?

But more importantly, I want to let you know of the owner of India Bistro – one Mike Panjabi. He celebrates the anniversary of his restauant each year around June 4th by giving back to the community. He celebrates the community of Ballard. And you can tell when you talk with him that he likes what theh community has done for him.

So, yeah, I could tell you how good the food is. But the real reason to go to India Bistro is to celebrate a small business owner who has taken one day out of the year to give back to his customers. And in my book, a good restaurant owner/manager is reason enough to frequent their business.

But the Chicken Korma will make a good reason to eat there as well, just in case.

There’s this Indian restaurant which I enjoy a great deal. It’s fairly priced, the food comes out hot, and they serve a good nan. The quality of the food itself is also quite good, and I found myself droolingn over their version of Chicken Tandoori. In short, it’s a place I woulnd’t be embarassed to find myself.

So imagine my suprise when I went there for lunch recently, and I found myself staring at a buffet line. I now know how sports fans feel when their favorite athelete is discovered taking steroids. Say it ain’t so, chole!

It’s one of my basic rules of dining, that I call the Law of Buffets:There is no such thing as a great buffet. Sure, there are some good ones. But they are few and far between. Normally, buffets are horrible wastes of time and food.

And yeah, yeah.. some of you more traveled folks out there may point out to me that the Bellagio in Las Vegas has a kickin’ buffet, serving everything from smoked salmon, mussels to fresh made bread or pizzas. But a buffet is a deal with Satan. It breaks one of the most traditional of restaurant philosphies, that of intimacy.

When I order a meal at a non-buffet restaurant, I am commiting to a verbal agreement between the cook/chef and myself, that they will be making a meal for me and me alone. The plate that comes to my table has been (hopefully) given individual attention to make my individual experience at that restaurant pleasant, but yet unique. The plate of salmon I get may be quite different from the plate of salmon the table next to me will recieve. I like that thought a great deal, even if it may not be true in execution.

But that intimacy is lost on a buffet line. Cooks for buffets (and let’s face it, there are precious few chefs working in buffet joints) are making food for the masses. The chicken breast I pick up was not sauteed in an individual sauce pan before it was plated and set to my table. Oh no. It was baked with two to three dozen other chicken breasts. It was treated like every other piece of meat that went through the kitchen. In short, buffets are not democracies, but rather communist states. Every dish is just like the other, and there’s no room for experimentation or diversity.

That’s not the only thing that disturbs me about buffets. My corollary to the Law of Buffets: All franchised restaurants with buffets have horrible food. This works if teh restaurant in question is a buffet place by choice, like the faux Japanese/Sushi buffet called “Todai”, which is so horrible that I once had a slice of teriyaki chicken that literally squeaked as I bit into it. This corollary also works for franchised restaurants who “happen” to have a buffet. I’m reminded of the Ponderosa Steak house chain who’s steaks were so horrible that their advertising campaign essentially said “Come to Ponderosa Steakhouse…where you’ll want to try our salad bar”. How ashamed of their steaks did they have to be where they actually wanted you to eat from their lettuce buffet, instead of chowing down on some prime rib?

Oh yeah.. salad bars? They’re nothing but the poor man’s buffet. But there’s no hot food to be had (except, if your lucky, some soup). Instead you get tow different kinds of lettuce. eighteen different salad dressings and other salad acoutrements. i.e. a lettuce buffet.

If hell exists, I’m quite sure their cafeteria is a buffet line, full of dried out meats that have been sitting under heat lamps for hours, and three different vegetables that are swimming in their own juices, with every flavor having been seeped out into a lifeless veggie broth. *shudder*

I still have a soft spot for that Indian restaurant. But even now when people ask me for a decent Indian place, I’ll respond “The dinner menu is not bad, but be forewarned: Lunch is a buffet.”