Why is good Indian food hard to find in the Twin Cities (although I recommend Udupi, the South Indian place on Central)? In my opinion, the problem is one that is common to many ethnic restaurants in cities whose population diversity has lagged behind their culinary diversity: with not enough people familiar with a cuisine to support a restaurant that features it, the fare is often modified to suit (misconceptions of) American tastes. There are many notable exceptions, of course, and the fusion of the exotic with the mundane can itself have a positive outcome, but Indian places in the Cities seem to follow the rule. A tad surprising that the trend persists perhaps, since the South Asian community here has become quite sizable.

The New Delhi space seems to have received only a partial update since the previous occupants closed up shop. Parts of the décor are an obvious holdover: dark wood and faux columns and arch create a clubby and classical feel. On the other hand, the walls have new murals depicting scenes from the Mughal era. These are well done and evocative, but the combination of elements is decidedly discordant.

The only option for lunch appears to be a buffet. You’re out of luck if you want to try something other than what’s arrayed for everyone. The spread includes salad, appetizers, sauces, main dishes, bread, fruit, and dessert. Salad fixings were limited to tomato, cucumber, iceberg lettuce, and red onions. This last might have been a nice touch if white onions—more of a staple in Indian meals—had also been included.

For an appetizer, we had pakoras, deep-fried balls of chick pea flour. They were freshly made and had a sweet-hot taste. The tamarind sauce accompaniment was more sweet than tart or spicy. The main dishes included two kinds of rice, one a pullao—usually a flavorful, mildly spiced dish—and the other a biryani—usually a festive, fragrant, saffron-infused dish with layers of rice and meat/vegetables, often a meal in itself. In this case, neither was particularly good, especially the biryani which was dry and bland, the source of its yellow color I suspect turmeric rather than saffron. There wasn’t even any raita. the otherwise ubiquitous yogurt sauce with cumin and other mix-ins, that usually improves the taste of sub-par rice dishes.

For dessert I tried the gulab jaman, fried dough balls served in syrup. The dough balls themselves had a nice color and texture: golden brown and with a slightly crispy crust. But they were excessively sweet, even for a dish that is considered excessively sweet by many when normally made!

We weren’t asked if we wanted any tea or coffee; we’d have said no anyway. I did have a savory lassi with my meal—a cooling, light yogurt drink that was pleasant enough.

You hate to criticize some ethnic restaurants because you wonder if in fact the food is too authentic for your taste. Not here. With B and I being as familiar with South Asia as we are, we can confidently assert that the recipes have been midwesternized. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but in this case one has to say that regardless of your ethnicity and spice-tolerance you are likely to find better fare a few blocks further south.

The Lunch tries out the new Indian restaurant: New Delhi Restaurant and Bar and is not impressed. I had looked forward to this opening with some anticipation, considering it’s just down the street from my office, and has an impressive storefront that extends about half a city block. Some of the euphoria wore off when I discovered that this restaurant is partially the brainchild of the former chef (and perhaps owner…?) of Chutney, Indian restaurant located in deep northern suburbia, where Indian émigrés dance to Bollywood hits when not following the fortunes of the Indian national cricket team. By the layout it appears that the owners plan to replay the Chutney story – there is a large (by Indian restaurant standards) bar equipped with TV screens, ready for the next (cricket) world cup. One has to wonder if this model is going to work in such an urban environment. Indians, like all immigrant groups joining the middle classes, tend to move to the suburbs and the success (or failure) of this place is dependent upon attracting the regular Eat Street diner rather than the cricket-loving Indian expatriate.

The restaurant is a dark and dank place. The sun is kept firmly at bay. The main dining area is configured – at least for lunch – in a buffet style. Here I’d like to rail against buffets in general and Indian buffets in particular! I think this trend was started by the Taste of India, successfully by all appearances, in the early nineties. And what is it? It ‘s the serving of bland, soulless, all-you-can-eat food that is only marginally Indian.  Targeted at captive South Asian palettes, softened (spoiled…?) by Minnesota living; other clientele includes Americans with fast food appetites who view this as an incredibly good deal. The décor and atmosphere includes Mogul style scenes drawn on the walls, a multi-colored St. Andrews’ cross made of some silky material on the ceiling and the obligatory sitar music.

Much to A’s surprise I ordered the mango lassi (yogurt based) off the drinks menu, which includes wines and beers (cocktails can also be ordered from a full bar). The drink was a bit on the tart side for my liking and the mango had traveled from the nearest can rather than the nearest fruit supplier. The only choice for lunch was the buffet, which consisted of a salad, pakora (deep-fried vegetable with batter around it), vegetable curry, mushroom saag (spinach), chicken jalfrezi (chicken pieces cooked in butter), tandoori chicken and daal. The food was prepared for the most common denominator, i.e., no spice; no flavor; nothing adventurous; and certainly nothing that did justice to the good Indian food that we know exists. For dessert there is the ever-present kheer (sweet, cold rice pudding), something that I normally enjoy but on this occasion it was too watery to be any good. The other sweet offering was Gulab Jamans (Indian style doughnuts), which were the wrong texture and the sauce was not sweet enough.

The space has so much promise, and with a little bit of imagination could become a first-rate restaurant. The management should have some faith in the sophistication of Minneapolis restaurant-goers and offer a lunch menu for those not inclined to dine on mush, preferably this menu should include entrees that taste like Indian dishes are meant to: spicy, hot, aromatic and full of flavor. Our bill came to $20.00.

If you’re thinking about opening an Indian restaurant e-mail me for the most original restaurant name. I’ll give it you for free. Anything to save the world from another buffet-serving Bombay Palace!