Garde-Manger

Madras Mahal - Kosher Curries for the Everyman

What is a garde-manger? It is a French term for a specialty chef whose task it is to prepare those dishes that do not involve true cooking. Examples might be salads, desserts, canapes, relishes and the like. We who dorm at Yeshiva University are bound by certain strictures that prevent us from truly cooking in our rooms. As such, those of us who wish to beat the high cost of cafeteria food find ourselves amateur gardes-manger. It is from this tradition that we take the name for our new column. It is our hope to broaden the cultural horizons of our student body by providing restaurant reviews, recipes and other insights to enriching the diet. It is well to know which places are good to take your date, where to go with friends, business associates, etcetera. It is with one such exposition that we begin our column.

Madras Mahal - little more than a corridor, the tiny bistro nestles proudly between several Indo-Pak groceries and idol-shops. It proudly displays a sign proclaiming that it is a "non-smoking vegetarian" restaurant--a fact that caused me no end of dismay as I found myself exiled to the pavement under the awning for a cigarette break between courses. The décor was plain. Inexplicably, Christmas lights adorned the entranceway, and floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the walls. It was a simple but clever ruse to produce an optical illusion of spaciousness. The waiters, smartly dressed and armed with an amphetamine alacrity, darted to and fro, taking orders and delivering the Far East's finest fare. Overall, the place had a homey, come-as-you-are feel to it. There could not have been more than six inches between tables. Any time I would leave or return to my seat. and I found myself having to slide my buttocks across my neighbors' table through the impossibly narrow gap.

I arrive on a Sunday at five in the evening. The place has about two patrons besides myself--a momentary respite in the bustle of this industrious enterprise. I start with the first item on the menu, a soup called rasam. It is a flavorful and hearty dish for $3 and stimulates the appetite while heightening the senses. Building on a lentil base, it is rife with the pungent aroma of asafoetida, the sap from an herb in the parsley family, and fresh curry leaves, the foliage of a rare tree in the citrus family. Asafoetida (Persian aza=resin, Latin Foetida=stinking) is believed by some to be the hiltet mentioned in the Gemara as the strongest taste known to man and the highest level of charifut. Surprisingly, its flavor is not really sharp, but musky and gamey. Other components were coriander "seeds" (really dried Umbelliferae fruits) and leaves (also called cilantro). The former is reminiscent of orange blossom waters, the latter is said to strongly resemble the flavor of beetles (this is a good thing!). Whole brown mustard seeds (having lost their bite in the heat of cooking,, they now offer nutty overtones) and Sanaam red chillies (dry-roasted) round out the dish. This starter was one area in which they excelled. It was rich, complex, tart, warming, robust and engaging with a pleasant texture and it was even pretty, in a swarthy sort of a way.

The very next order of business is to have my tea--a fragrant decoction called masala chai. It is black Assam CTC leaf (crushed) tea infused with a tisane of aromatic spices used especially for sweets--ginger, green cardamom, clove and cassia among others. It is served with hot milk and sugar packets (I used four) so the diner may embellish it to his or her liking. I think I probably make better masala chai myself at home (you're invited) and at $2 would give this drink a miss (it probably costs 20¢ to make). A word of caution for those who would try it--due to the long steeping periods involved, it probably has more caffeine to it than your average cup of coffee.

I next moved on to an appetizer called iddly, essentially a dollop of unseasoned, steamed farina ("cream of wheat"), and a donut of primarily lentil flour. They are served with an array of up to four different kinds of chutney (sweet and savory dipping relishes)--mango, coconut-mint, tamarind-date and green chilli. The coconut was bland but the rest pulled their weight and made the meal.

My entrée was a bhindi masala, or curried okra. Okra is a smallish vegetable, similar to squash, that grows in swamplands. It can be difficult to cook right as it will fast turn to a gelatinous mush if heat is misapplied. Madras Mahal was more than equal to the task and produced tender-but-crisp veggies that sat amiably in the thick curry paste. Alongside this treat, as with all others on the menu, one receives a helping of basmati rice. Basmati is the world's finest rice, grown in the foothills of the Himalayas. Its name is Sanskrit for "fragrant," and its fragrance is further enhanced by adding a couple of whole cloves to the boiling rice for a delicate and sweet perfume. The secret to eating Indian food on a healthy stomach is plenty of rice. Rice is "bulk" and acts as a binding agent in the digestive system. So long as you temper your curries with plenty of white rice, your meal will be a wholly enjoyable one. A forkful of rice to a dab of curry is an advisable ratio.

A magnificent puffball of bread, glistening with the oil it had just been fried in, arrived in a wicker basket. The soccer ball-sized sphere of pastry dough was (pardon the cliché) light, golden and flaky. I was saddened that there was not more of it provided for the $3. Those who prefer something more grandiose can opt for the dosai. This is a huge circular flatbread, easily two feet in diameter, folded over like a giant papier machei omelette. Everything ran smoothly until the staff played to a full house. Their clockwork efficiency faltered somewhat under the enormous burden; a fork was forgotten here, a condiment there. Par for the course, but never endearing. The language barrier presented an occasional obstacle but the waiter's courteous and attentive mien more than made up for it.

Dessert was a tiny cup of Heaven. Kulfi is an ice cream-like confection, containing rich saffron, pureed nuts, rosewater and kewra (screwpine essence) to name a few. This paradisaical sweet alone merits a trip.

The hashgacha is provided by Rav Chaim Dovber Gulevsky of Brooklyn. Although I was unable to reach the rabbi for comment, I recall a telephone conversation I had with him about two years ago concerning Madras Mahal. They are milchig but not chalav yisrael. They are open for business on Shabbat Kodesh but there are no Jews employed there and it is owned and operated entirely by Gentiles. Those who are concerned about the possibility of lifne iver (enticing others to sin--such as providing a temptation to violate the Sabbath) should consult their local Orthodox rabbi. Because people tend to be more lenient in their dealings with a dairy establishment, a mashgiach temidi (constant supervisor) has not been provided for. This means that anyone who is makpid al inyon bishul akum (stringent about foods cooked without direct Jewish involvement) should call ahead and find out what sort of supervision was available on that particular day. It is safe to say that one may treat all food there as b'chezkat milchig. Kemach yoshon.(properly aged flour) is unknown to them.

All in all, Madras Mahal is a good place to begin your exploration of the many and varied cuisines of the Subcontinent. The novice will be pleased by their Westernized versions of traditional recipes. The seasoned palate, however, may find something lacking in authenticity as they cater to a clientele mostly unaccustomed to the strong flavors typically encountered in this region. It is a quaint respite from the ordinary and an opportunity to demonstrate one's appreciation for the finer things in life. Aspirant bridegrooms beware-- it is not the most romantic of spots, but it is a great place for a change of pace when "hangin'with the boys."

Until our next meal together, bete'avon!

Madras Mahal

104 Lexington Avenue @ 27^th st.

(212) 684-4010