The waiter issues the same refrain after every person at our table orders: "Mild, medium or hot?" This is Laziz's compromise to the distinctly American clientele whose cars fill the McMullen Booth strip mall this restaurant calls home. Indian dishes — whose very nature calls for intense amounts of spicy peppers, like classic vindaloo, or for complex blends of mild spices, like korma or saag — are all given the same treatment: subdued or heightened at the whim of the diner.
Cultural compromise? Maybe, but that's a necessary conciliation in an area that is shy of ethnic eateries from the Eastern hemisphere. In all other ways, Laziz sticks to hardcore authentic fundamentals that keep packing suburban adherents into this tiny New Delhian outpost.
Daal ($3.95) ordered "hot" elicits immediate upper-lip perspiration — so spicy it's almost enough to hide the pungent blend of cumin and coriander that infuses these creamy lentils. At Laziz, though, nothing can hide the almost — but not quite — overwhelming blend of spices.
Three varieties of Pakora ($4.95) — breaded and fried cheese, veggies and chicken — are disappointingly bland, but the interior of a deep-brown samosa ($4.25) the size of my fist is dotted with hunks of potato, shreds of herbs and green specks of pea. It's divine.
The daal and samosa are a quick reminder of why Indian food is a vegetarian's playground: strong spices, rich sauces and an appreciation of veggies as a main dish. Even a carnivore would be intrigued by many of Laziz's vegetarian entrees.
Like channa masala ($9.50). This version consists of firm chickpeas suspended in a rich and heavily spiced liquid that introduces us to Laziz's unique culinary style. Most Indian sauces start with a combination of onions, garlic and a handful of spices and/or herbs, which are chopped, crushed or blended together and then fried. Here, dishes usually come to the table with a deep brown, intensely caramelized hue, as if the spice blends were cooked longer than most. These sauces look — and taste — dark. Mysterious, even.
Nowhere is that more apparent than in the Laziz's chicken korma ($13.95). In this often mild North Indian dish, the gravy is fortified with ground cashews to make a velvety and exceptionally rich sauce, but not at the expense of spice. There is a pungent backbone of fragrant cumin and cardamom that permeates the sauce, tempering what could be a heavy blanket of nutty fat.
Normally, the green flavor of stewed spinach provides the same lightening effect in lamb saag ($13.95), but at Laziz the spinach is relegated to second or third fiddle behind stewed hunks of lamb and another rich gravy infused with spices. Although chicken is extremely popular here in the U.S., lamb's more gamey character is able to stand up and contribute when blasted with India's spice-laden cuisine.
I have to pick around a prodigious amount of fresh curry leaves in Laziz's chicken Madras ($11.95). Tucked into the mild gravy built around rich coconut milk after it comes off the heat, these bright green gems infuse the sauce with a hint of herbaceous spice and notes of sweet citrus. Even at "medium" heat, this is a mild, subdued dish that serves as a break from the powerful seasonings in other dishes.
Only fish vindaloo ($14.95) disappoints. It is severely simple, with a sweet-red tomato base that is too one-dimensional after the more intense dishes on the table. I'm used to vindaloo that comes close to destroying my taste buds with absurd quantities of vinegar, garlic and chili, vindaloo that straddles the pleasure/pain divide. Normally, it hurts so good. Here, it's a heartbreaker.
But hey, screw the protein or vegetables — breads are the key to truly enjoying all levels of an Indian feast, starting with hot, buttery naan ($2.50) baked on the sides of a blindingly hot clay oven. Here, it's just as expected: blistered by the heat, soft but chewy, perfect for scooping up stray bits of sauce and meat. I eat several pieces too many as I reach across the table with torn bits of the flatbread, invading the entrees of all my companions.
Poori ($2) serves the same purpose, but this time the dough is whole wheat and deep-fried, creating a hollow globe of thin bread close to a foot across. Tear into it, but beware the super-heated steam that waits inside.
Laziz also serves naan impregnated with garlic and cilantro and sprinkled with the red shreds of tandoori chicken ($5.95); it's better than most pizzas and worth an extra order, if you have room. Hell, you can even eat naan for dessert, stuffed with ground nuts and dried fruit ($4.25). If you lament the loss of bread in most Eastern cuisines, Indian is the food for you.
I think we're all well past the point where we underestimate anything in a strip mall. This is Florida, after all, and strip malls have become an intrinsic part of our culinary culture. Still, whenever I try out a new ethnic restaurant crouched in a tiny roadside space, I'm always looking for what it can offer that my own local, more convenient joints can't.
Laziz's food combines surprising, deeply caramelized sauces with a profound appreciation for herbs and spices that creates incredibly flavorful Indian dishes more complex than most neighborhood places can manage. That's worth a trip to a Clearwater strip mall any day.
Brian Ries is a former restaurant general manager with an advanced diploma from the Court of Master Sommeliers. Creative Loafing food critics dine anonymously, and the paper pays for the meals. Restaurants chosen for review are not related to advertsing. Read more of Brian Ries on his new food blog, Eat My Florida, at http://blogs.creativeloafing.com/eatmyflorida/.
This article appears in May 16-22, 2007.