For those of us who grew up eating a diet heavily based on meat and dairy, veganism is a little scary. Heck, even vegetarianism can instill fear in the carnivore majority. But we are not our cave-dwelling ancestors. Survival of the fittest in the 21st century means making smart choices at Publix.
There’s no longer an imperative for us to consume animal products since healthy options abound. And, from a restaurant perspective, the south Indian cuisine from Tampa’s superb Udipi Cafe is living proof of how much flavor a veggie-based menu can deliver.
Most Indian restaurants in the West feature northern Punjabi-style food — the wonderful creamy curries, naan and tandoori meat dishes so prevalent in England and the U.S. These highlight garam masala spices, amchoor (dried mango powder) for a sour note and dried fenugreek as an herbal accent.
Southern India focuses more on rice, lentils and vegetable stews, eschewing animal protien. Spice comes from sambar powder and the edge of tamarind. Chefs trade cream for seeds, popping spices in oil like cumin, cardamom and coriander. Savory sauces abound. Coconut milk substitutes for cream, veggie oil for ghee (clarified butter).
A smart way to approach Udipi’s broad lineup is to start with the appetizer platter, aptly described as a “lavish gourmet medley.” The apps include medu vada, a savory doughnut with a crispy outside and a soft, cake-like interior, its dough a lentil and gram flour combo with some potato mash for heft; potato bonda, a dumpling of spud filling dipped in gram flour batter; and pakora, deep-fried Indian veggie tempura in the form of peppers, eggplant, squash and zucchini.
The distinctly triangular samosa stuffed with potatoes and peas fills me with vivid memories. Samosas were my introduction to Indian cuisine, handcrafted by a late friend from Delhi. These are indeed Indian comfort food. The starter mix concludes with a vegetable cutlet.
The secret to the platter’s success comes from four stainless vessels filled with multidimensional sauces. The tamarind sauce has real depth. Mint dip with a little cilantro makes the samosa come alive. Coconut chutney provides a welcome cooling to the sustained heat in the back of your throat from a pakora pepper that won’t let go, and tomato rasam — part soup, part sauce — proves to be a versatile dunking addition.
We try the garden fresh vegetable korma cooked in Indian spices and coconut milk, as well as a south India staple, masala dosa, an enormous, thin rice and dal (lentil) crepe filled with mildly spiced crushed potatoes and onions. The korma makes me long for chicken, but the nutty, crisp dosa is not only impressively large, it gives my table another vehicle to dip in the yummy sauces.
We can’t resist the south Indian thali entree, which is a little buffet on a round metal tray. Surrounding a large bowl of rice in the center is a panoply of salty, sweet, sour and bitter dishes in tin cups — curries, chutneys and Indian pickle all around — that merge in the mouth in one sitting.
Next to the rice is a poori, puffy unleavened deep-fried Indian bread, and papad (or papadum), a thin, ultra-crisp, disc-shaped undulating wafer made with seasoned dough. It’s hard to tell if this one is from lentils, chickpeas or rice. It really doesn’t matter; the diner has different textural options to enjoy the circle of flavors. If you find yourself missing naan, add paratha, a pan-fried multilayered whole-wheat bread. It’s denser and oily, but a distinct contrast to the two other crisp breads.
So it’s time to dig in. There’s sambar (lentil-based veggie stew) and absolutely seductive dal (derived from the Sanskrit “to split”), which refers to the yellow lentils that mimic a transporting butter sauce. Plus, kootu (a Tamil word for “add”), i.e. vegetables added with lentils that are semi-solid in consistency, and therefore, less aqueous than sambar.
Avial is a terrific coconut-based vegetarian plate from the far southwestern coastal region of Kerala, and poriyal (meaning “fried” in Tamil) is a sauteed vegetable dish.
Then there’s rasam, a soup of tamarind juice with tomato, chili pepper and cumin among other spices. The platter also comes with a thin yogurt and a small pot of unidentified tart pickled veggie.
There are so many ways to combine the flavors that eating this food is loads of fun. If the word vegan or vegetarian scares you, you need to come be wowed by these tastes. The only downside for me was a similarity of textures. Nothing mimics the chew of meat. But that’s not Udipi’s goal.
For dessert, the platter’s lone sweet is payasam, a sugary, addictive rice pudding with vermicelli that’s flavored with cardamom and a few raisins. Also included is a choice between coffee or chai. Though chai is more typically northern, we choose the popular flavored black tea with a perfumed mixture of aromatic Indian spices and herbs. I’m ready to go pure, but my tablemates force four sugar packets before the tea goes down.
A visit to Udipi is a welcome reminder that we need not give up flavor to adopt a healthier approach to eating. Luckily, hunting and gathering are now hobbies rather than necessities.
Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system.
