Rasoi Indian Cuisine
4 out of 5 stars
1701 E. Eighth Ave., Tampa. Appetizers: $5-$13; entrees: $13-$24; desserts: $5-$7; wines by the glass: $6-$9. 813-241-0003; rasoitampa.com.
The restaurant business is not for the faint of heart. It takes true entrepreneurial spirit to make the leap in such a fickle world. And doubly so if you’re a first-time restaurant owner — especially when home is halfway around the world.
Luckily for us, Manashi Boruah and Amit Ghorpade made the jump from Mumbai to Orlando in search of culinary adventure. When they saw an opportunity at the former Cristino’s Coal Oven Pizza space in Ybor City, they moved to the Gulf Coast. Now, Hillsborough County has Rasoi Indian Cuisine, another first-rate north Indian restaurant (to compete with Palma Ceia’s Flames) that’s the peer of Pinellas-based Gateway to India, my perennial favorite on the western side of Tampa Bay.
Settling on starters is a hard choice. We jump at the mixed veggie platter, which allows the table to sample four traditional goodies. Samosas are always on my mind whenever the chance to eat Indian food occurs. There’s something so comforting about biting into flaky golden pastry to encounter the soft goodness of chunky potatoes dotted with green peas and distinctive grace notes of Indian spice. Generally, samosas are a reliable gateway for Western palates fearing heat that aficionados from the subcontinent crave.
The same is true of the delightful onion and baingan (eggplant) bhaji. These golden fritters in a crisp chickpea batter are done to greaseless perfection; the spices add a touch of heat to excite the flavors. And, finally, pan-grilled “aloo tikki” patties of chickpeas and potatoes flecked with chilies complete the quartet.
Accompaniments for dipping include mint chutney that finishes with a touch of heat at the back of your throat and a dark, slightly sweet tamarind sauce. It’s fun to mix and match to taste, tweaking the flavors to suit your desire.
Freshly baked bread is a lure at Indian restaurants. Naan has a special, even elemental, draw — and just the thought of it pulls at me like a siren’s song. At Rasoi, Arun Rana’s flatbreads are light and pillowy. The bubbles of char on the surface add texture and boost flavor, making the disks perfect for sopping up every last drop of chef Navi Avard’s spicy, dynamic sauces. The menu includes 11 bread variations, so you’re sure to find an irresistible carbo-melody.
The entree choices are vast. Thirteen vegetarian specials are available, plus seafood, chicken, lamb and goat with the usual treatments — tandoori, tikka masala and vindaloo, to name a few. My one taster who’s been to India can’t resist the restaurant’s mixed grill with an assortment of greatest hits featuring marinated tandoori chicken, a char-grilled ground lamb kebab skewer, succulent shrimp in glowing red spices, and boneless chicken tikka. Each protein has its own allure, and the portions are ample. The spices are well balanced, too, while the meats are moist — an impression that lingers even when nibbling the next day on those morsels we’re not able to force down our little piggy faces.
Served with big bowls of fluffy basmati rice, the curries are complex affairs. Chicken korma, a favorite of one regular companion, really has a distinct, unmissable cashew flavor. The nutty dish usually has divine creaminess, but rarely this one’s layered complexity. Layers of flavor are also the trait of lamb rogan josh, a heady mix of tender chunks of meat that's a whirlwind of fresh yogurt, tomato, ginger, garlic and spices. Although I’d be hard-pressed to pick out the individual flavors, the result is lively and sinus-clearing.
A side dish of cooling yogurt raita helps to sooth my tender membranes. Those who aren’t asbestos-mouthed diners should start with mild spice. Once you have a reference point, you may safely move up to medium, hot or Indian-hot — for anyone competing for Olympic blow-smoke-out-your-ears medals.
Rasoi offers German riesling by the glass, which is a perfect match for the food; the wine’s slight sweetness is magical with the spice. If you prefer a premium pale lager, give the Taj Mahal a try.
Indian deserts are alien to Western eaters. Gulab jamun (literally “rose berries”) are powdered milk doughnut balls soaked in honey syrup flavored with rose water. The inside has a custardy consistency, and the syrup is sweet and somewhat floral. Rasmalai are sort of crustless cheesecake dumplings. They’re made out of paneer, essentially cottage cheese, with a few nuts and served in rose water-flavored condensed milk.
My tasters are not enticed.
I’ve had both treats before and know Indian friends for whom these evoke fond childhood memories. I’m a complete omnivore, curious about culinary culture, so I indulge. They are pleasantly sweet, yet an acquired taste. I encourage you to take the gastronomic journey — even with a view toward cultural anthropology.
As we leave happy, with ample leftovers for tomorrow’s lunch, I can’t help but revel in the spices from the other side of the globe that linger. Diversity is indeed its own reward, and a pithy line from Hamilton seems particularly apt: “Immigrants, we get the job done.”
CL Food Critic Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system, or email him at food@creativeloafing.com.
