Pop It Like It's Chaat

REVIEW: Desi Chaat House

by Drew Lazor

Hawkers, dishers and dispensers of the quintessential South Asian street food, chaat vendors dot the Indian subcontinent with the same work-a-day ubiquity as the dirty-water hot dog dealers who hustle for our pocket change on the streets of Any City, U.S.A. While chaat — a loose term that refers to the homey layering of crunchy spiced flour crisps, chickpeas, yogurts, sauces, fresh herbs, spices and whatever else — does not have much contextual footing with American grab-and-go eaters, it's a snack that I think can appeal to anyone who's short on cash, and open-minded about dough.

Desi Chaat House, owned by Hasan Bukhari of the Desi Village restaurants in West Philly and King of Prussia, has taken the chaat cart next-level, serving up multiple renditions of the treat out of a multi-hued neon building that looks like a solved Rubik's Cube.

Inside, behind the counter, a fast-moving staff dips into candy-store gumball containers warehousing an earth-toned arsenal of crispy-crunchy starting points. There's just one table in here, plus a outward-facing rail, leaving little room to bob and weave once the young (and mostly South Asian) clientele starts crushing into line. Good thing the chaats, handed over in lidded rectangular takeout trays seconds after you order, are portable — and even better that they're pretty damn good.

Visually, chaat is something like taco dip that believes in dharma, with multiple layers representing multiple textures. Start with the classic papri chaat, papri (hyper-crunchy white-flour wafers, not unlike fried wonton wrappers) studded with spiced potatoes, chickpeas, big hunks of raw red onion, cilantro, a thin, cooling yogurt and cubed mango that adds a smirking sweetness. Mumbai chaat introduces fried lentils (they look like curried Fruity Pebbles) and whole peanuts. Samosa chaat is what it sounds like, with the triangular, potato-filled dumplings jutting up from beneath a shallow, starchy pond like deep-fried rock formations. And though most of the offerings are vegetarian, meatheads can't go wrong with the lamb chaat, topped with cold hunks of heavily spiced, sliced-to-order meat that's been cooked in an tandoori oven.

Desi Chaat House also does fresh fruit lassis and juice, rice biryani dishes and wrap sandwiches (including a greasy-good fried-tater veggie roll tucked with spring mix into a round flatbread), but your smartest move is ordering a house specialty. I do have to take issue, though, with the Chaat House's bold carnival-barker slogan, "from mild to wild" — they playfully claim that everything can be amped up in the heat department, from "American spicy" to "Indian spicy." One staffer even raised a flattened palm well above his head to pantomime just how brutal that latter level was. Then why were none of the chaats I requested "Indian spicy" even remotely hot? When I say I like it wild, I really, really mean it.

(drew.lazor@citypaper.net)

Desi Chaat House | 501 S. 42nd St., 215-386-1999, desichaathouse.com. Open daily, noon-10 p.m. Chaat, $4.99-$6.99; biryani, $6.99-$7.99; veggie or meat wraps, $3.99-$5.99; desserts, $3.99. Wheelchair accessible.