You may be wondering why I would choose to write about a place in New York City when Amherst, Mass. is clearly not the Big Apple. As a soon-to-be graduate with dreams of a West Village townhouse (Keep dreaming, Leigh ... I know), such culinary information is pertinent to Amherst students since the number of alums who migrate to New York after graduation is quite significant. And if they don't settle there, a chunk of their friends do and they undoubtedly find themselves in the city for visits.
Now back to the issue at hand. Curry Hill is not to be mistaken with Curry Street or Curry Avenue or any of the other Indian food sectors of the city. Curry Hill is small, but you know you're there the second you turn the corner onto Lexington Avenue and start heading north of 25th Street and the smell of Indian spices paralyzes your senses. Now do not allow yourself to become overwhelmed and stop in just any Indian restaurant or one of the several Indian fast food take-out shops. One must do one's research.
There are several moderately priced restaurants in the area and one pricey, but fabulous, eatery. My mother, brother and I had to planned to eat at Saravanaas, a restaurant with great reviews from The New York Times, a line out the door and patrons "addicted" to the food, as I overheard several remark. However, Saravanaas specializes in South Indian food, particularly dosas, which are thin crepes filled with potatoes, vegetables, rice and other various delicious items. Mom was not feeling the dosas and was instead craving tandoori chicken or something else less ... vegetarian.
We decided to forget the suggestions and reviews and feel our own way to the right place. We settled on Curry Leaf, a comfortable, inviting restaurant on the corner of Lexington and 27th. We were led to a booth in the back of the petite restaurant, next to a table with three women who talked incessantly about inappropriate bodily issues they were enduring. On our other side was a young European couple with a very good-looking guy who had a strange brown mole on his left nostril. Too bad.
The wait staff immediately brought over weakly spiced papadums with pickled red peppers and chutneys. My brother and I each had a bowl of the Vegetable Soup ($2.95) which I was told would consist of chunks of broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, tomato, squash and more. There was no broccoli, no squash, no tomato. And the vegetables were specks rather than chunks. At least the spices included were delicious. A slice of lemon was stewed into each bowl which left a refreshing aftertaste. Thankfully, it was also served piping hot.
My mother ordered the Fish Tikka ($14.95). The menu says it is supposed to be "fresh salmon," but I thought it looked way too white and didn't have the same melt-in-your-mouth quality that salmon has. But Mom insisted it was salmon, so what Mom says goes. Regardless of the disappointing quality of the fish, it was certainly carefully marinated to perfection and cooked just enough to give it a just barely charred crisp coating. It went nicely with the mint and coriander sauce brought out at the beginning of the meal.
I ordered the Chicken Makhani ($11.95). The well-cooked chunks of chicken arrived in an almost bitter tomato gravy, even though the gravy is described in the menu as being "a little sweeter than tikka masala sauce." If this gravy was sweeter, I wouldn't touch the Chicken Tikka Masala with a 10 foot pole. Again, the saving grace of the dish was its spiciness. I had visions of piling spoonfuls of the dish on top of pizza or a sandwich a la meatball subs. That's how thick the tomato gravy was. Yikes.
My brother ordered the Mater Paneer ($9.95), which is spelled various ways. The dish is peas and paneer (cubes of cottage cheese) in a buttery tomato gravy. It is one of my favorite dishes of all time, and Curry Leaf's rendition was the only dish we ordered that I truly enjoyed. The sauce was fabulous, the peas were abundant and it was great alone or drizzled onto the basmati rice served with each entree.
For dessert, each diner is brought a complimentary small bowl of the Indian version of rice pudding. I had a serving of this same dish on my Air India flight in January that was 50 times better than this one. No wonder Curry Leaf's was complimentary.
I was pretty disappointed in the quality of this meal, especially since the take-out place down the block looked incredible and we had opted for this Zagat-sanctioned institution of fine dining instead. Next time, I think I'll make Mom suck it up and go to Saravanaas where we know the food is going to be good. Or maybe we'll head up to 52nd Street where another Indian food enclave resides.
Or we'll just scrap the whole Indian food idea and go to Union Square's Max Brenner, a restaurant specializing in chocolate, to which three Amherst '06s introduced me the following day. Think massive chocolate cakes served in their baking pans, topped with whipped cream, ice cream, toffee sauce, bananas, blueberries, strawberries, caramel, chocolate waffle crumbs and hedonism ... eaten with spatulas. No joke. And that's just the beginning. In New York, the possibilities are endless. And so is my appetite.
You can send Leigh your questions and comments about New York City dining at lfrivlin@amherst.edu.