When I see a menu a mile long at a Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, or an Indian restaurant, I get nervous. How can the kitchen possibly prepare all those dishes fresh to order? It’s one thing if all the vegetable are chopped (hours ago) and all they need to do is toss them in a wok with some bottled chili, soy, and hoisin sauces, but when that chicken curry, beef bhunau, and chickpea channa masala take upwards of an hour to cook from start to finish, I get nervous. There are corners being cut somewhere. Goodness knows it takes half a day, plus an extra day or night of marinating to make a proper lamb vindaloo.
That doesn’t mean it’s not fresh. Maybe it was prepared to the final stages earlier in the day, and it’s finished off just before being scooped onto your dinner plate. But most likely that curry was sitting in a chafing dish or pot, either kept hot or waiting to be reheated. For how long, who knows? Some people believe Indian food tastes better on day two anyway, once the spices have blended, but I say that’s hooey. When you’re using fresh spices you don’t want to give them the chance to fade. So when I go to an Indian restaurant and I can’t taste whole cumin seeds, or fennel (in the more adventurous spots), or cloves, and there’s nary a curry leaf in sight, it’s a strong reason to turn on my heel and leave before the ubiquitous gulab jamun arrives for dessert. You might as well be at an all-you-can-eat buffet, where you walk in full-knowing the food’s probably been sitting there a bit too long. (I’m looking at you, Buffet Maharaja.) It might taste fine, and there’s maybe a time and place when you want a lot of oily, salty, filling comfort food, tons of rice and naan, but I don’t much feel like investing in a pair of drawstring pants anytime soon.
Am I being an Indian restaurant snob? I’ve actually never seen a place in Montreal that makes their lentil dahl with water or broth (not commercial powder or spice blends) and then actually pours a hot oil seasoning of whole spices, toasted until nutty and then over the lentils and serves it immediately. Because this would have to be done to order – every time someone ordered the dish. It’s labour intensive, but so is any good upscale restaurant (e.g. not a bistro, though they do short last-minute preparations such as searing that duck confit leg or sole meunière filet).
I just said I’d never seen this, but that changed last week when I went to the new Masala Cuisine in Point Ste-Charles. Located on Centre Street almost at Shearer, the restaurant is taking advantage of the Nordelec lunch crowd from the nearby building that houses tons of small business start-ups, hence lots of workers going out for lunch in an area where there are about 5 restaurant choices, only 3 of which are any good (Note: this was written June 18, 2012 – pre-rotisserie chicken and tartar restaurants).
Masala Cuisine used to be on Wellington Street in the Peel Basin but closed awhile back and recently re-opened in the Point. At the old location it did cooking classes and was widely regarded as some of the city’s best Indian food. Now they’re doing classes again (though not yet as popular as they used to be, since not many people seem to know they’ve re-opened) and I’m here to say it’s once again some of the city’s best.
The problem is it’s only open for lunch Monday-Friday and dinner Thursday-Friday. So it took me a good month to get there when it was open. But it was worth it. $10-$12 for a lunch special that starts with lentil soup (better than it looks) with tons of turmeric, followed by a choice of butter chicken, chicken korma, beef bhunau, mutter paneer, or chicken masala, all with a side of rice and less soupy lentil dal with that stupendous fresh seasoned oil I mentioned. Naan is a buck extra, I think. The only special I could eat was the masala chicken (gluten-free, dairy-free), and it was alright. Not as impressive as the lentils in terms of flavour, but the chicken was tender and swimming in slightly less canola oil that at most Indian restaurants.
And the serving size was perfect. Rich and hearty without being over-the-top and distending my belly. And I got the “half” serving for $10 instead of $14. Larger appetites planning to work harder and probably make more than me on a Friday afternoon should cough up the extra $4.
And it’s an open kitchen. That NEVER happens in Indian restaurants. Normally non-fine dining kitchens try to hide what’s going on with the food, not show it off. It’s a welcoming space this way, and you can trust the quality. It’s not organic chicken or fresh tomatoes, and the mixed veg are pre-frozen (the carrots have that lined pattern in them)…and the chicken itself didn’t taste like anything, but when I saw the mixed vegetable curry that came with the mutter paneer (cheese) being served to another diner, I asked what was in it because it looked surprisingly vibrant. It was chock full of broccoli still living the un-faded highlife, along with the frozen carrots, corn and peas. A big step up from just frozen vegetables, assuming the broccoli wasn’t frozen too – Enhanced frozen vegetables are better than overcooked mushy frozen vegetables. And broccoli is a brilliant choice because it sucks up all the sauce. That’s why in stir-fries and saucy dishes broccoli is always my favourite. It’s a mouthful of teriyaki sauce with a little green texture, or a mouthful of canned tomato-based curry with whole spices. The mixed vegetable curry isn’t exactly beautiful, despite the colours – a tangle of red and faded green vegetables – but it’s chewy enough that you know it wasn’t sitting in a chafing dish too long. That’s the advantage of only serving lunch from 11:00am-2:30 and not having a dinner service – no dishes sitting around waiting to be ordered, either in advance or à la minute.
All in – $13. If I ate butter chicken or beef bhunau I’d try those, but I could happily just eat the dal all day. Way better than the Tibetan restaurant, OM, on St-Laurent. I don’t understand how that place is so overrated…their dal was bitter and otherwise bland. They could use a lesson in freshness. Or the wonders of lemon juice. Or maybe it’s absolutely fine but just didn’t have a good seasoning oil poured freshly over top? Yes, that must be it. I want to believe the best of people. But just in case, “Dear OM restaurant, please take some cooking classes from Masala Cuisine…”
Masala Cuisine
Where: 1906 rue du Centre
When: Mon-Fri 11:00-2:30, Thurs-Fri 6-10pm
How Much: $13 for lunch, up to $22 for dinner with a samosa and dessert
www.masalacuisine.ca
514-287-7455
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