Indian food finally gets its star turn

I typically prefer to wait two months before visiting a new restaurant for a review. There are just too many kinks to be worked out during the first few weeks of operation, and it only seems fair to give a restaurant the time it needs to find its footing.

This review marks a departure for LifeStyle Magazine. It is based on impressions of Bindi during its relatively early days, approximately a month after it opened its doors. We decided to do this because of the high profile of both the restaurant and the owners. Marcie Turney and Valerie Safran also own Lolita, the beloved nuevo Mexicano restaurant; Grocery, the high-end neighborhood market; and Open House, one of the city’s most of-the-moment housewares stores. Indeed, there has been so much buzz surrounding Bindi—since, in fact, it was merely just a concept and an address—that we decided it would be helpful to provide an early glimpse of the city’s first haut-Indian BYOB.

The good news is that the food is exactly in keeping with what fans of Turney’s cooking have come to expect: Bold flavors that don’t peddle in cliché, and a sense of inventiveness firmly rooted in the traditions of the cuisines that inspire her.

Appetizers are modeled after the street snacks, or namkeen, of the sub-continent. And while your first impression may be that Turney, too, has fallen for the allure of small-plate dining, fear not. These are appetizer-sized portions, no matter what they’re called.

As expected, even humble, standard fare like samosas ($7) were given new life. Miraculously devoid of stomach-churning grease and stuffed with a dense, belly-filling combination of roasted parsnips, paneer, potatoes, coriander, green chili and cashews, and crowned by thin strips of pickled ginger, crunchy cashews, and a spicy mango ginger chutney, these were the samosas I’d always wanted to tuck into but was never offered.

Kofta ($9), too, were standouts, and likely to change everything you think you know about meatballs. Composed of ground lamb seasoned with ginger, coriander, cayenne, and garam masala among other goodies, these humble little globes would have been perfectly fine on their own. But the tomato-y sauce perfumed with the licorice tang of star anise and the warmth of cinnamon elevated them to another plane entirely. I just wish there had been a bit more yogurt; the additional drizzle atop the meatballs brought a pleasant lactic tanginess to the proceedings, but it acted almost as a tease.

Entrees were notable for their bold use of exquisitely fresh ingredients. This, of course, might sound like a strange statement: Why else would we visit a restaurant like this if we didn’t expect freshness? But fans of Indian food will recognize a difference at Bindi. The freshness and authenticity each dish’s components raised them from the level of the familiar to the realm of the exciting.

In the chana masala chicken ($17), chunks of poultry the size of children’s fists benefited from an overnight soak in a yogurt marinade that included cumin, dried fenugreek, turmeric, paprika, garlic and ginger. The meat itself, as a result of the prolonged contact with the yogurt, had taken on a wonderfully tender texture that worked in smart opposition to the charring at its edges.

Shrimp and winter vegetable sambar ($21), a hearty, bone-warming stew, was heady with the aroma of toasted coconut and asafetida, a resin that, when it hits the heat of the pan, develops an aroma reminiscent of onions or garlic. There was also a fascinating sense of tension here between the sweetness of jaggery and the bitter flavor the fenugreek seeds. As you’d expect from a chef of Turney’s caliber, balance is everything here, and her seasoning never wallops you over the head.

Both of these entrees were best enjoyed with homemade rotis, Bindi’s take on the classic thin breads of India, and the perfect vessels for sopping up all that sauce. Spinach-green saag chapati ($4) was the highlight, as the paratha ($4), a potato-dill stuffed version, was overburdened by an aggressive application of sea salt.

But while the food here was generally very successful—even desserts, especially the cardamom cake ($7) with a salted caramel sauce and crisp, all served alongside a pot de crème rendered exotic and wistfully unfamiliar by the addition of curry powder, star anise, cinnamon, and chili powder—the service needs some serious work.

We were seated and not given menus for more than five minutes. No bread or papadums were offered to tide us over while we waited for appetizers to arrive. When requested, lovely spicy ones were brought over, but less than two minutes before appetizers arrived. And then, just as one server cleared the empty plates, the entrees were dropped off, affording us no time to catch our breath between courses. Additionally, we had to request a wine-chilling bucket, which both should have been brought over as soon as the waitress saw that we had a bottle of white. And, presumably because we had brought wine, we were never given a drinks menu, which features lemonade punches you can add spirits to, as well as lassis, the alcohol-free yogurt drinks that pair so well with some of the spicier dishes of India.

But like I said, this was an early visit, and some missteps were to be expected. And the food, even at this stage of the game, is every bit as well-conceived and thoughtfully prepared as you would expect from this team. I just hope that the service improves, because food this good deserves better. And Bindi is exactly the kind of place at which even the most curry-averse Philadelphians will find something to enjoy and, somewhere over the course of their meal, discover all the variety and excitement of a cuisine that is finally being given the turn in the spotlight it so richly deserves.

Bindi is located at 105 S. 13th Street in Philadelphia, and can be reached by phone at (215) 922-6061.