G. Mirch Masala: Indo-Pak In Unlikely Places

Anyone who knows anything about us, or has read the blog in the last three years knows that we here at Eating Milwaukee love Indian food. When we first started going to Tandoor, my thoughts immediately turned to Shah Jee, a (literal) hole-in-the-wall my mother and I used to frequent on my days off in high school. I thought, "Ahhh, I remember these flavors..." but what I failed to connect was that Shah Jee was indeed Pakistani food, and that Indian and Pakistani cuisine share so many flavors, despite being very distinct sets of cooking traditions.

Fast forward to 2012, and we're all a bit older, a bit wiser, and a bit... er, gray-er -- and Andy and Lauren are raving to me about G. Mirch Masala -- "You've got to try it!" Lauren would beg, practically drooling over the thought of plate upon plate Indo-Pak goodness. So, we made a date, and I drove over that invisible continental divide between the North and South sides known as I-94, to check out what all the hype is about.

The first think you'll notice about G. Mirch Masala is its location: in a building which formerly housed The King & I Thai. At the intersection of 76th Street and Good Hope, G. Mirch Masala lives in a very unique part of town. The Northern suburbs are living proof of what White Flight and urban sprawl can do to a city: houses abandoned and boarded up, businesses vacant, and empty lots, maybe once occupied by now burnt-down residences or maybe never built upon in the first place -- an area that population and economies simply couldn't support. 

Despite the slightly depressed neighborhood, G. Mirch Masala does a lively business, with a popular lunch buffet, and substantial night-time dinner crowds. The night we went, we came late, and missed most diners, but Andy and Lauren assured me the restaurant is consistently busy. The exception, of course, is during Ramadan -- Andy said, "I think we were pretty much the only people in here that day."

I started my meal off with a mango lassi:

The lassi was incredibly thick, something that was abated as the ice melted. The thick, tangy yogurt blended with milk, sugar, and mango puree made the perfect palate cleanser to the tongue-tingling meal to follow. 

The table agreed to order Samosas, three ways:

Beef and Chicken: 

which both used similar phyllo-dough exteriors, and traditional vegetable Samosas:

which were wrapped in the traditional, more crumbly pastry shell.

I can't say I've ever actually seen a beef Samosa before, mainly because we tend to frequent more Indian restaurants than Pakistani, and I'd have to say I'd be slightly turned off at an Indian restaurant offering beef anything.

The veg Samosas were tasty and brightly spiced, with chunky potatoes packing the tender pastry. The beef Samosas were equally well spiced, but I'd have to say that the texture of ground beef freaks me out just a little bit -- it reminds me of tater tot casserole in the lunch room as a kid. 

The chicken Samosas were dead on -- perfect little bits of chicken with enough heat to make things interesting, but not enough to get me diving for my fabulous lassi. 

For meals, Andy had Karahi Chicken:

While Lauren had Chicken Makhni:

Adam ordered Chicken Biryani:

Jim ordered the G. Mirch Masala Grill Platter (affectionately christened Meat Mountain):

While Marcia ordered Chickan Malai:

and Joe ordered the Chicken Qorma:

Our dinners were served with the requisite Papadum:

along with a salad:

and Basmati rice:

It should be noted, however, that the rice was not included with the dinners. If one wanted rice, it is available per-platter, for a small price. There is also an option to make your dinner a "combo," which is to say with rice and Naan, for a nominal charge.

My question is... who would want a curry without rice? Or Naan? Perhaps someone unfamiliar with Indo-Pak? Or have we been eating curries wrong all along? Either way, we ordered enough rice and naan to go around the table twice over.

I, of course, had to go with garlic naan (who wouldn't?)

One of the things I had to continually remind myself of is that G. Mirch Masala isn't Indian food. Well, I mean, it is. But, it's Indo-Pak. We've had this discussion already. Different cultures, different cuisines, different expectations. Don't expect Indian spicing, 'cause you're not going to get it out of anything but the Tandoori chicken (which, by the way, is the best I've ever had. Period. End of sentence.).

Lauren's Chicken Makhni was delicate and creamy, just the way you'd expect it to be. Gone, however, was the managerie of aggressive spices of its strictly Indian cousin, giving way to a sweeter, more subdued flavor of the gravy: tomato, cream, and butter, with notes of garlic and ginger. While I think I would have liked it with a bit more chili heat, it was a nice departure from the typical butter chicken recipe. If Royal India's Butter Chicken is like a Sibelius chorale, G. Mirch Masala's is like a very talented singer-songwriter playing the guitar and harmonica. I like it.

Andy's chicken was bright and brash, with big obnoxious frat-boy chilis in the front, and bold and acidic tomato and onion and garlic flanking the heat. The heat quickly gave way to a warm blend of spices, making this one a beautiful choice on a cold winter night.

Jim's Meat Mountain was, well, meaty. The kabobs were executed extremely well, the Tandoori chicken was marvelous, tender and flavorful, and I was a big fan of the spice level of every item.

Adam's Chicken Biryani reminded me immediately of a chicken 'n' rice casserole my mom used to make when I was a kid: warm, hearty comfort food, with a little bit of chili heat, a little bit of aromatics, but nothing Earth shattering or groundbreaking: just delicious, hearty food.

Marcia's chicken proved interesting: cooked well, spiced just right, and marinated in cream(?), the only off flavor I could immediately identify was that of burnt milk in the spots where the grilled chicken charred a bit. Still, very tasty.

My chicken Qorma (or, how I'll probably slip and spell it at least once, Korma) was divine. Enragingly tender chunks of dark meat chicken lurking in a sweet and garlicky cashew cream gravy. Add in the fresh julienned ginger on top, and my palate was awash in richness and heaviness: this is not diet food.

The Qorma represents one of the fine points of Indo-Pak cuisine that I love so much: balancing spices which, in less able hands, can chew scenery, with delicate and easily mashed flavors like cream, cashew, and butter. Think butter versus cinnamon: who would you be more likely to taste?

This Qorma built flavor layers deftly, ranging from wafts of complex spices, to big beautiful foundations of sweetness and the fat of the cashews and cream. Neither too rich nor too lean, I would go back to Mirch for the Qorma alone. And probably a few orders of that garlic-studded naan.

Served with dinner was a salad(?) which, strange as it may seem, was absolutely heaven with the cilantro and tamarind chutneys drizzled over it. Every thought to use cilantro chutney as salad dressing? Neither have I. Try it. You'll thank me.

We finished things off with an order of the G. Mirch Masala Kulfi:

Rich with dairy, the kulfi was enough that our entire table had a sample, and just enough sweetness to cap off the mildly spicy meal.

Epilogue

It's been a long time coming -- getting a new review up. Life has thrown the staff of Eating Milwaukee a few curve balls here and there, but the amazing part, the reassuring part, the part I love the most -- is that we, after all this time, still can come together and enjoy a great meal, in a new and interesting location, as the best of friends.

G. Mirch Masala is a delicious departure from standard Indian fare (if Indian food can ever be called standard). Andy and Lauren have been bugging me for months to try it, and now I understand why: the usual suspects are all there on the menu, but they all have just a little different character, a little different twist. With the warm welcome we recieved, the excellent service, and the enthusiastic recommendations, there is little room for me to criticize G. Mirch Masala.

It was a fantastic opportunity to share the evening with my Eating Milwaukee friends, and enjoy yet another facet of Milwaukee's ever-diversifying food scene.

Report Card:

Atmosphere: B
G. Mirch Masala resides in what used to be The King & I Thai restaurant. By its location in the city, and the remaining design cues in the building, it had obviously been a pretty hip joint in the 70's (for some reason, Boogie Nights comes to mind...). Not much has changed, meaning the interior is warm and careworn, but still very servicable and pleasant.

Prices: B
What appears to be downright cheap prices for most dishes turns out to be just slightly-less-expensive-than-normal when you add in rice and naan. Which, of course, you'll do.

Service: A
Our servers were extremely attentive, sometimes almost to a fault. I loved that one of the waitresses we had actually took part in making some of the food, and she was very quick to explain to us the painstaking processes!

The Food: A-
As an excercise in Indo-Pak, G. Mirch Masala excels. If diners go in with the expectation of having an "Indian" dinner, they may be a bit disappointed, as the specific dishes don't always correlate -- but come with an open mind, you'll find Indo-Pak a refreshing change from the everyday curry.

The Details:

G. Mirch Masala
7225 N. 76th St.
Milwaukee, WI 53223
414-353-7300
Website (With menu! Hooray!) available HERE



Tandoor: Indian Dining Bliss...

Waxing poetic about the symphonic wonderment that is Indian Cuisine is sort of like writing a love song: it's all been done before. Ask any foodie about their opinions on Indian food, and they'll promptly melt into a puddle of mewling goo, expounding the virtues of the spicing, regaling in the perfectly cooked meats, rich gravies, and lavish rice. Oh, we all love Indian food. But I'll let you in on a little secret: if you want the most perfectly food-gasmic Indian experience possible, you're going to have to make a field trip over to Tandoor, in good old West Allis.

I think it probably shows a bit of bias that I haven't really even written a word about the food itself, and I'm already calling Tandoor the best destination for Indian food in the city, if not the state. But the fact of the matter is, I've dined at almost every Indian restaurant in every major metropolitan area in Wisconsin, and I can honestly say that Tandoor has delivered the goods, time and time again, always leaving me immensely full and awed at their culinary abilities. That said, let's talk Indian food for a moment, shall we?

Tandoor immediately greets you with a warm, comforting blanket of spiced air the second you open the door. There's ginger, coriander, cumin, garlic... the smell is heavenly, and sets the stage for what's ahead. The restaurant itself is a bit odd, consisting of a bar side (which, to be honest, I don't think I've ever seen anyone sitting at), and a dining room side. It's positioned at one end of a row of businesses on Highway 100, just about a block north of Greenfield avenue. The interior is spartan, with some traditional tapestries hanging on the walls, simple tables and chairs, and just a little Asha Bhosle piped into the dining room, to never let you forget how close Bollywood is to taking over the world.
The restaurant is always clean, well lit, and well attended, but I've never had to wait for a table. During the week, Tandoor has an exceptional lunch buffet, and the dinner menu offers all of those options and more.

You may notice that the interior of Tandoor is a bit, well, homely... you'd be correct in your assessment. And as far as I'm concerned, that's okay. Actually, more than okay. I would venture to say that the combination of humble space and extraordinary food is what makes Tandoor such a find: this place is all about the food. No pretense, no out-of-body decorating experience... just absolutely breathtaking food. Tandoor is one of the few restaurants in my short list of favorite places that has no "environment" column, just because I think it's sort of irrelevant: you go for the food, not the décor.

Tandoor is, of course, named for the Indian clay oven used for a number of dishes. Tandoori chicken, which is probably the most well-known of these, is a perennial favorite on the menu. While none of the Eating Milwaukee staff ordered it on our visit, we've all had it before, and it certainly is worth the praise and reputation which follows it. Tender and lightly spiced, with that nuclear-red color so traditional, it's the perfect solution to both boring American barbecued chicken in the Summer months, and pale and bland baked chicken in the Winter. But, I digress: as much as I love a good hunk of yard bird seared in a rocket-hot clay oven, there are other, less pedestrian treats to behold. Let us then progress to the run-down, shall we?

You should be aware that when you are seated, regardless of your dining choices, you'll be treated to a plate of Papadum: and a triumvirate of chutneys... mint, tamarind, and onion:

There are certain things you have to do when visiting Tandoor. One of them is order appetizers. Tandoor's appetizer offerings are not only expansive, but genuinely interesting, bypassing so many of the "filler" appetizers we're all used to. All types of Pakoras (fritters), breads, soups, and superb Samosas adorn the offerings. We ordered four deep-fried treats:

Shrimp Pakora

Chicken Pakora



Paneer Pakora



And Samosas



The chicken pakoras are always a personal favorite. Loving referred to amongst the staff as "Indian Chicken Strips," the pakoras consist of chicken thigh meat, spiced and breaded in a chickpea batter, and fried to GBD perfection. The shimp and paneer (a home-made, fresh farmer's-type cheese) are given similar treatment. The batter on each gets super-extra crispy, and has a wonderful spice and saltiness to it -- not too strong, not too bland, but balanced in a way that is so typical in Indian cuisine. The samosas were the stars, however, with a crumbly, crispy pastry shell, and smooth, spicy filling consisting of potatoes and peas. Lauren, not being a potato fan, was a bit leery. However, upon continuous egging on from the rest of the staff, she finally caved, and quickly exclaimed, "You can't even tell it's potato!"

One of the things that always amazes me about Indian cooking is how a basic stable of spices can be re-combined in so many different ways, yielding different results each time. Most of the dishes that form the foundation of Indian cuisine use the same basic spices, yet when combined in different proportions, sometimes omitting one, sometimes the other, different dishes can take on completely unique personalities. Taking advantage of this, many Indian dishes spawn from a number of basic sauces (something like French Mother Sauces). Regardless of whether Tandoor uses this strategy in their kitchen, I can say with all confidence that each and every item on their menu has such a specific and unique identity, they all taste as though they have been made individually, specifically to order. I like that.

We each ordered a different curry, with the break down as follows:

Joe: Chicken Shaahi Korma



Lauren: Chicken Makhani (Butter Chicken)



Andy: Garlic Chicken and Shrimp



My Chicken Shaahi Korma was beyond reproach. A smooth, creamy gravy, filled to the brim with plump, sweet golden raisins, and spiked with half cashews, it was both sweet, salty, and incredibly well spiced. The chicken chunks were tender, big, and plentiful. Combined with the large amounts of Basmati rice served with dinner, and the copious amount of fresh-baked garlic nan, the effect was amazing. Andy's Garlic Shrimp and Chicken was awe-inspiring, with a gravy so garlic-heavy it was almost too strong. Please note the operative word there: almost. For those who love garlic (me), this was just at the nexus of strength and flavor. For those who abhor garlic, well, good luck finding Indian food without it. Having had the garlic shrimp and chicken before, I was familiar with the basic flavor. However, Andy ordered his at a Medium hotness level, as opposed to my typical wussified Mild heat, or the iron-tongued Hot heat (sorry, I had to use red text somewhere in here). With the dish at medium heat, flavors seemed brighter, more pronounced. The garlic seemed less heavy, less oppressive, and had a pleasant heat augmented with the chili flavor.

Lauren's Chicken Makhani was typically delicious, with a rich, thick gravy heavy with tomato, garlic, ginger, cream, and butter, with a sweet set of spices that immediately made me think clove, cinnamon, and cardamom. The chicken tikka in her dish were tiny, tender cubes that were the perfect compliment to the delicate sauce.

There isn't much else to say that may expound the virtue of Tandoor, other than to say that every time we've visited (often) in the last seven years, we've been wowed, and honored. We always find ourselves thanking the accommodating staff, over and over, and from my point of view, it's because I feel sort of privileged to be able to eat with them. It feels like you're welcomed into their world, seated at the kitchen table of their home, and served their dinner, as opposed to going to some mock-Indian theme park that specializes in Americanized food that bears little to no resemblance to actual authentic cooking. It's a treat, and albeit one that cannot be over-used: I think part of the wonderment of Indian cooking is the fact that I can't, no matter how hard I try, re-create it at home.

I love Tandoor, always have, and always will. The wait staff is inviting and fun, very attentive and engaging. The menu is immense and comprehensive, and the food... well, the food will leave you smiling in such a way that is normally reserved for more, ahem, adult activities. Visit soon, and visit often, as any of the Eating Milwaukee staff will tell you.

Report Card:
Atmosphere: B
Is this really important when you consider the food? I mean, you've got nice linen napkins, Asha Bhosle, and the smell of a thousand spices in the air. What more do you need?

Prices: A-
Certainly fair, although not the least expensive I've seen. When your food arrives, give in to the panic that you aren't getting a whole lot in that little metal bowl. Dump some curry on a pile of rice, and then tell me you aren't going to have enough to be full... especially as you pack your left-overs in a to-go box. A little goes a long way, and portion sizes are plenty big. Most entrées fall into the $9-$14 range.

Service: A+
Fun, smiling, and pleasant. And oh, do they make sure your water glass is full!

The Food: A+(++++)
Exceptional in every way. Order anything you want, you'll be happy. No heap of praise will ever explain how much I love Tandoor, you're just going to have to experience it yourself.

The Details:

Tandoor Restaurant
(414) 777-1600
1117 S. 108th St.
West Allis, WI 53214

Online menu (danger! out of date prices and offerings!) available here.