TAMPA, INDIA: Pat Saravana's Indian-food outpost at Interbay and MacDill is winning lots of fans. Credit: Eric Snider

TAMPA, INDIA: Pat Saravana’s Indian-food outpost at Interbay and MacDill is winning lots of fans. Credit: Eric Snider

When Bhava "Pat" Saravana retired from the Indian Navy last year and moved to Tampa Bay, he could've become a commercial airline pilot or taken any number of management jobs. During his 13 years in the military, he'd been a fighter pilot (his handle was Pat) and a deep-sea diver. He'd also earned his MBA in Human Resource Management and Industry Relations.

So what did Saravana end up doing? Serving Indian food (and select other items) out of a trailer (or "mobile platform" in industry parlance) moored at the corner of MacDill Avenue and Interbay Boulevard.

"I said to my wife, 'Give me a year,'" Saravana says, standing outside his eatery, Tun-Du-Ree (his phonetic spelling of tandoori, the ancient Indian cooking tradition). "I wanted to see if I could do this. It's the perfect time to try it."

His wife Chitra, who's lived in Tampa Bay three years, is a senior manager at an IT firm, "so I don't need the money from the business to pay bills," Saravana, 34, says. "I made a small profit in the first month, and it's been growing, but I'm putting all the money back into the business."

Saravana is clad in jeans, sneakers, a green apron and a ball cap that says "Tun-Du-Ree: Magic of the Indian Grill." With his near-constant, irrepressible smile, it's easy to see how he has ingratiated himself into this working-class neighborhood south of Gandy Boulevard.

Instead of just parking his mobile unit on some random corner, cooking his grub and opening the service window, Saravana spent considerable time laying the groundwork. He went to bartending school and took a job at the Grand Hyatt Tampa Bay to get his service chops down. He worked short stints for a couple of food vendors at the Wagon Wheel Flea Market in Pinellas Park. He hired a consultant and developed a business plan.

Saravana chose the MacDill/Interbay location for three basic reasons: "Number one," he says, ticking off a finger, "there's no Indian food in the whole of South Tampa. Number two: It's in a neighborhood where there's not much awareness about Indian food, but we're near MacDill Air Force Base. Many of those people have been around the world, and I wanted them to be my first customers. Number three: money. I would've loved to open up on Dale Mabry, but I couldn't afford it."

He opted for the mobile platform approach because "Indian food has a reputation of being expensive in restaurants," he says. "I want to make it the common man's food. If you open a regular restaurant, you have to get people to walk in the door. With this, people can react to the sights and smells and come in on a whim. My highest menu items are $5.99, with some $6.99 specials. That's about half what you'd pay for similar dishes at an Indian restaurant."

The neighborhood has reacted by showing massive love. Open from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. (noon to 8 p.m. on weekends, closed Wednesdays) Tun-Du-Ree often sells out of certain items. Saravana's lunch rushes can get crazy.

A handful of folks have become downright obsessive about his food. He tells a story about a neighbor who stopped by, sized the place up and ordered a hot dog. Saravana gave the man a sample of his Chicken Tikka Masala. The guy returned 90 minutes later and ordered a full Indian meal. Then he came back that night with his wife and four kids for Indian food and has been back for lunch every day since. Another customer has fallen so hard for the Tunduree Chicken that he's bought 25 frozen orders of the stuff every week for the last five.

I sampled a few Tun-Du-Ree dishes, and although I'm not an Indian food aficionado, I found it easily on par with Indian sit-down places — and, of course, a whole lot cheaper. I don't know if I could eat the Tunduree Chicken 25 times a week, but I could definitely scarf down mass quantities. The Chicken Tikka Masala was especially tasty, luxuriating in a rich, flavorful sauce with just the right amount of residual heat.

As one might expect, Saravana puts in a decidedly long workweek. His lone employee, a gregarious guy named Roland Ellis, arrives at Tun-Du-Ree about a half hour before him to set up. Saravana picks up supplies and arrives an hour prior to opening. During downtime — around 2 to 5 p.m. — he usually cooks. All the food is prepped daily. Saravana generally reaches his Feather Sound home around 10 p.m.

The Tun-Du-Ree business plan envisions it becoming a "hub-and-spoke operation," with a central headquarters for food prep and business affairs, and a number of mobile platforms serving meals and pre-packaged Indian food. Saravana sums the concept up by saying, "It's all about being in concentrated places at concentrated times."

Tun-Du-Ree, 5825 S. MacDill Ave., Tampa, 727-678-1262.

Food Issue Main

Eric Snider is the dean of Bay area music critics. He started in the early 1980s as one of the founding members of Music magazine, a free bi-monthly. He was the pop music critic for the then-St. Petersburg...