Also this issue: Drink Tank: Good Buys -Peter Burwasser

March 20-26, 2003

food

All India

Fire and spice: Lovash prepares naan and tandoori chicken in this tandoor oven. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

A welcome step backwards for an Indian restaurant on South Street.

by Elisa Ludwig

South Street should count itself grateful to have Lovash, where, in a seeming reversal of current trends, an authentic restaurant has come to replace a fusion experiment. In the tradition of Minar Palace, Lovash is an inexpensive, casual, will-deliver Indian eatery without a buffet. The telltale red chili pepper sign outside, a holdover from the days of Mirchi, might suggest that the former Mexican/Indian hybrid has not changed much. But for more than a year now, the proprietors of Shivnanda have been restoring tradition to the menu and stovetops inside.

True, there are some anomalous items like onion rings, Cajun fries and poppers on the "quick order" section of the menu, in deference to the late-night South Street crowd. This fact, combined with the location’s dubious history, the décor-in-transition (candy-striped tables and peach-colored walls) and slightly awkward service had me anticipating the worst. But on almost all fronts, Lovash delivered beautifully.

The small downstairs dining room, clustered around an open kitchen, is supplemented by an upstairs seating area. If it’s booze you want, you’d best head back up the block to Fat Tuesday’s because Lovash’s drink of choice is mango lassi. Ordinarily pale and milky, it is presented here in nectar form, sweet and thick, with barely any noticeable trace of yogurt.

Despite the tiny kitchen, our food came out in a timely manner. The mixed appetizer plate was a nice cross section of small bites. Best of these were the Tandoori chicken wings and a robust samosa stuffed with curried potatoes and peas. The pakora fritter -- spinach and potato fried in chickpea batter -- had the golden hue and crisp texture of perfectly timed frying. Adding to these goodies was a single grilled shrimp and two square slices of lamb, which, naked and unsauced, looked out of their element. Luckily, small bowls of tangy tamarind sauce and sweet mint chutney were included for a quick dipping redemption.

In the bread department, we tried to play it straight and went for the standard clay oven-baked naan. Then, thinking better of it, we ordered a second naan stuffed with garlic and mild cheese, and an aloo paratha for good measure. All of the breads were warm and doughy, but I particularly liked the garlic naan, whose olfactory influence lingered for hours afterward.

Tandoori shrimp, first marinated in chile and ginger and then oven-barbecued, was served with a cornucopia of evenly sautéed vegetables: green beans, onions and red and green peppers. For another dose of green, we ordered palak paneer, ground spinach fried with cubes of a mild homemade cheese that has the consistency of tofu. Both were excellent, and we forked them up with mouthfuls of the saffron basmati rice that comes with every entree.

It is nice to see southern-style dishes on Lovash’s menu, which are ordinarily underrepresented around these parts. There are several coconut curries on the menu to choose from, as well as some rich vegetable dishes. We tried lamb Chettinad, with a dense masala of coriander, ginger and cinnamon, and found it to be delightfully pungent.

On the other end of the spectrum is the mild chicken tikki masala -- a dish invented in England to appease less daring palates. Yogurt-marinated chicken is bathed in a tomato-based sauce, accented with cream and ginger. Lovash’s was right on the mark, moist and flavorful, with a subtle sweetness.

There is a mix-and-match curry section where diners can choose their meat or seafood and pair it with a style of preparation. Exercising our freedom of entree, we chose beef in Jalfraizie sauce. Here was the most noticeable misstep in our meal: The sautéed tomatoes, green peppers and onions were spiked with a vibrant masala, but the beef was unfortunately dry and chewy.

For dessert we had gulab jamon -- balls of fried dough soaked in sugar syrup laced with cardamom. Ours may have soaked a bit too long because they were a bit on the rubbery side. On the other hand, the kheer, a spiced rice pudding made with coconut cream, was cool and comforting.

Most comforting, though, is the idea that if you have a late-night hankering for biryani it can be satisfied. In fact, Lovash encourages spontaneous, post-pub Indian food cravings which it will summarily satisfy for less than the cost of your average South Street burger. I still dream of a good chaat shop in Philly, but for its convenience and value, Lovash is definitely taking us in the right direction.