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



Royal India

We've already established the supremacy of Indian cuisine, so I'm going to spare you my dissertation on why curry will set you free.

Royal India is, as is the tradition in Milwaukee for great food, located in a strip-mall in a less than chic part of town. Overlooking what has to be the largest Wal-Mart in the Midwest, and the ruins of Southgate, Royal India isn't particularly pretty.

The parking is dodgy, and traffic on 27th Street is a nightmare. But often with great struggle comes great rewards, and this is most certainly the case with Royal India.

Enter, and you're greeted by an ample dining room, softly lit and relatively clean. The usual smells of garlic, ginger, coriander, and cumin immediate storm your sniffer.

Dinner starts with the traditional Papadum,

Accompanied by the equally traditional trifecta of chutneys:

Bright red onion, dark thin tamarind, and paste-like mint.

Now, we've always been fans of Tandoor's home-made chutneys, but never really big cheerleaders for their Papadum. They always seem too salty, and the (ajwain?) seed throughout just give it an odd flavor.

Thankfully, Royal India's Papadum are much less salty, and spare us the odd seed-age. Combined with the tasty mint, sweet and sour tamarind, or absolutely sublime onion chutney, they serve as a delicious warm-up for the rest of the meal.

Did I mention that the onion chutney was superb? Our friendly server pointed out that most of the non-Indian patrons tend to perfer the tamarind, as the sweet-sour combo is familiar to us. However, we gobbled down almost the entire dish of the onion chutney, and were left wondering what, exactly, made it so cotton-pickin' tasty?

First, the onions are crunchy. Score one for texture. Second, the nuclear red marinade they're in is a bit sweet, but intensely sour, a little hot, but also a bit spicy... it's the most odd, fantastic combination. Try the onion chutney on just about anything... it'll make the meal.

We splurged a little on the highly affordable appetizers, ordering Chicken Pakora:

Samosas:

Veggie Pakora:

And Paneer Pakora:

Our helpful friendly server also brought us out each a cup of Masala Tea, aka Chai.

The chicken pakoras were, as would be expected, quite delicious. The meat was well seasoned if a bit chewy in places, and the chickpea batter crunchy and substantial.

The cheese pakoras were more of the same, with firm paneer and a spicy batter.

Not wanting to break with tradition, the veggie pakoras were very fine, with hunks of every vegetable in the garden. Surprise! Was that a battered, deep-fried leaf of spinach? I'm pretty sure it was.

While the samosas were tasty, they lacked the rich pastry texture of Tandoor's, and there was no mistaking the filling for anything else except mashed potatoes. I'll say the various pakoras probably scored either as good or better (in the case of the veggie pakoras) than the Tandoori equivalent, however, the samosas at Tandoor are by far and away the winners.

The Masala Chai was a nice surprise, with a mild sweetness, smoky spice, and rich creaminess. The tea served as an effective palate cleanser between appetizers, and the fat of the milk helped keep the spice of the meal under control.

Well, full yet? Excellent. Because it's time for the entrees!

Andy ordered Chicken Vindaloo:

While Lauren ordered Chicken Makhani (aka Butter Chicken) 

And I ordered Lamb Saag:

It should be noted that, despite having a (relatively) complicated order, involving multiple appetizers, breads, drinks, and entrées, the timing on all of our food was nearly perfect, neither cluttering up the table nor leaving us wondering when the next course was going to arrive.

Andy ordered his Vindaloo a Medium+ spice level, which our server told us was probably the upper limit for, er, pale Western European types. In retrospect, Andy says, he probably could have handled a full-fledged HOT, but was satisfied with a Medium+ nonetheless. Andy is kind of a man's man when it comes to spicing, through, so you kids at home don't feel bad about sticking to the mild stuff.

His Vindaloo was true to it's Portuguese/Goan roots: ultra-spicy, tomato, garlic and vinegar based gravy with chicken. This was in no way, shape or form just a manipulation of the house red curry; this was as true a Vindaloo as I've ever tasted. If spicy/sour is your thing, then Vindaloo is your dish.

However, if the intricacies and romance of Indian spicing are your true calling, then the Chicken Makhani might just be up your alley. The gravy is thick and rich, smacking of cream and butter, bright red with tomato, fragrant with garlic and spiced with a harmonious blend that never lets you forget it's Indian you're eating. The chicken tikka were tender and tasty and plentiful, and came together like a symphony with the curry.

My Lamb Saag was heaven. The creamed spinach was thick, thick, and even thicker yet. Realizing, of course, that creamed spinach curry isn't very photogenic, understand that the flavor belies the slightly unsavory sight of the dish.

India's love and respect for the dairy cow becomes readily apparent here: the Saag is a textbook outing of cream and butter, garlic, a little cumin, a little cardamom. Bits of red chili dot it, and my mild+ heat gave me just enough tongue-tingle to keep my interest. The lamb was beautifully cooked, tender and juicy, never tough, and never particularly lamb-y, if you catch my drift.

Combined with the fresh garlic naan (no picture, use your imagination), my Saag was a decadent treat, like licking the spoon after mixing a batch of brownies... something I'm keenly aware isn't healthy nor wise, but the sort of food-indulgence that one needs to engage in once in a while to keep from going completely off the deep end and eating an entire box of petit-fours. Which I did not do this Christmas. You can keep your accusatory stares and your tongue-clucking, thank you.

It bears repeating that our server was genuinely warm and helpful, talking and joking with us the entire time, even recommending better camera angles for the curry! He was quite proud of the food he was serving to us, taking the time to explain how everything in the kitchen, save the papadum, was home-made from scratch, and how he couldn't imagine using canned or pre-made anything.

I like it when my server is excited about the food I'm eating as I am.

We closed the meal with a little bowl of Gulab Jamun, lovely spheres of fresh cheese, deep fried and soaked in a rosewater syrup. Two of these sugary little suckers is plenty much, just a pleasant finish to a heavy and spicy meal.

Epilogue

I will always have a soft spot for Tandoor, but, as the old adage goes, you can never go home again. With Tandoor's new ownership comes a new menu and new flavors. We've been assured over and over that classic recipes haven't changed, yet on our last visit, it was all too obvious there are some subtle differences -- good, bad, or otherwise. As a break from tradition, Royal India satisfies with down-home Desi treats, the heavy curry comfort food that makes you want to take a long nap followed by an even longer night's sleep. 

I've heard some folks complain that the service is slow at Royal India, or that things aren't kept as clean as they ought to. Honestly, we didn't see any of that on any of our visits (admission: this wasn't our first rodeo). Despite the dining room being a bit quiet on our visit (it being the day after Thanksgiving, and all), there was a lot of carry-out traffic, so the kitchen was still busy enough to show potential slow-downs to us dining-room folks. 

We really enjoy Royal India, and we think it offers a nice change of pace from some of our other Indian standbys in the city. It's always good to have options, and we believe Royal India should be at the top of the list when you get the hankerin' for some curry...

Report Card:

Atmosphere: B-

It's quiet, intimate, and generic enough to be pretty much any kind of restaurant except German. Don't let the chairs stolen from a Greek family restaurant fool you, there is some Asha Bhosle playing from the overhead speakers. I'd say the only thing I really could dock the place for was the faulty dimmer which controlled the pendant lamps over the tables -- they'd blink high-low every couple of seconds, and pretty soon, I developed a pretty wicked eye-twitch.

Prices: B+

We're firmly in the $10-$15 range for entrées, but the portions are fair, and the food quality is peerless. Appetizers are inexpensive and the options are plentiful 

Service: A

Quick and gabby, and not the least bit shy about recommendations. It's a pleasant change to have a server who is actively engaged with customers. 

The Food: A-

Curries, executed essentially flawlessly, and consistently to boot. A few minor missteps in the samosas can be easily forgiven, I imagine samosa recipes are a lot like chili recipes: everyone thinks theirs is the best. 

The Details:

Royal India Restaurant

3400 S. 27th St.

Milwaukee, WI 53215

(414) 647-9600