News

Banjara Indian Cuisine

796 Bloor St. W., Toronto. 416-963-9360. Dinner for two with tax and tip, $45.

Blame the many examples of bourgeois decadence that have infiltrated our modern urban existence. Truffle-decked $36 hamburgers, anyone?

Don't get us wrong: We demand quality and comfort, we would just like a little roughness around the edges to reinstate our hipster street cred.

It was only a matter of time before the grit-meets-virtue dichotomy infiltrated the restaurant scene. Enter Banjara.

Formerly the Coffee Tip Donut Shop, a place for chain smokers to congregate and bond over day-old bear claws between card games and menthols, this hub of South Indian-style dining has had to overcome a stigma-bearing location in a neighbourhood, Seaton Village, where residents tend to look beyond local for restaurant ops.

Since opening last year, some effort has been put into sprucing the place up: A bold colour palette (look for the awning and patio umbrellas in a shade evocative of coconut milk tinged with turmeric) and white linens have been added. But relics of Banjara's past life remain, most notably, the empty backlit doughnut shop menu over the counter. Even sans makeover, however, devotees of chef Raj Veerella's nonpareil cuisine would probably be just as devout.

Veerella has flown below the radar of Toronto foodies for years, his focus on cooking rather than self-promotion. Having manned various kitchens (including a stint at JK ROM) and proven himself as a restaurateur (Banjara was previously at a smaller location on Yonge Street), Veerella has moved westward, a stone's throw from the pool rats and tai chi fanatics of Christie Pits. He is being embraced for his talent at last.

Cauliflower pakoras ($3.50), though advertised as four, come as six, crammed into a basket, fresh from a go in the deep fryer and still hissing hot oil when they arrive. The fritters, with innards of the curried veg and a wholesome chickpea flour batter, retain a rare lightness that makes them all too easy to pop down the gullet. The starters are fine, if that's your thing, but it's the main dishes and the breads, that really deserve attention.

It's rare for a dish to make the entire dining room fall silent in awe. Tandoori chicken ($15.95) and tandoori salmon filet ($10.95) draw envious glances as they are ushered, steam billowing and their sizzle deafening, to a table of wide-eyed fortysomethings, who immediately cease their critical analysis of the Harper cabinet to focus on the flesh, retina-burning red, before them. Succulent, their verdict.

No local artisanal bakery can hold a baguette to Veerella's breads. Made to order with organic honey, rye and whole-wheat flour, naans, roti (both $1.95) and paratha ($2.95) are complex in taste and texture. They're substantial, buttery, almost diaphanous.

Mains are presented in wide-mouthed copper cauldrons, excellent for sharing, even better for bogarting. Okra is paid due regard in bhendi masala ($8.50), lightly pan-fried with onion and tomato and finished with a hit of lemon juice. Baingan bharta ($8.95) sees whole eggplant baked in the tandoor until charred. It's mashed and cooked down until it becomes concentrated and almost jam-like, a marriage of caramelized sweet and smoky. Chicken korma ($9.50) is luxuriously rich, with tender light and dark meat in a velvety sauce that's heavy on the cashew paste and yogurt. Lamb rogan josh ($9.95) wallops with the heat of red chili and ginger. The meat falls into shreds as it hits the plate, and melts when it hits the tongue.

Desserts are restrained, a whisper of sweetness serving as an appropriate end to an evening spent gorging. The standard gulab jamun ($2.95), a cakey ball made of dried milk that has been deep-fried and soaked in a sugar syrup, is a multisensory experience, perfumed with rosewater, though not overpoweringly so. Excellent rice pudding ($2.50) is an example of how unfussy foods can be the most satisfying: Creamy basmati is brought to life after being infused with saffron and cardamom pods.

A small but thoughtful selection of wines is available, with pairings informally suggested. Pierre Sparr gewurztraminer ($5.95 a glass), full-bodied and faintly honeyed in flavour, stands up to spicier fare as promised. Purists will be pleased by the selection of beers. A pint of Cheetah ($4.75), a refreshing, light Indian-style lager - you'd never know it's brewed in Brampton - is the obvious choice.

The menu is brushed broadly with safe strokes: Banjara's original carte has been scaled down and exotic plates - gherkins fried Andhra style, we hardly knew ye - are a distant memory.

You will find the old standbys available at most other South Asian joints, but the tangible difference is in the careful preparation and skillful execution. Not to mention, it's just a little bit edgy.

Joanne Kates will return in

September.