Thanjai Restaurant
108 Third Ave., 613-695-1969, ottawa.thanjairestaurant.com
Open: Wednesday to Saturday 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., Sunday and Monday 11 a.m. to 9 p.m., closed Tuesday
Prices: $10 to $15 for most dishes
Access: ramp to front door, wheelchair-accessible washroom
Note: ample vegetarian, vegan and gluten-free options
I have fond memories of eating dosas — those, large, tangy, South Indian crepes filled with delectable vegetarian stuffings — as far back at the early 1990s in Ottawa, at the Little India Café in the west end, which is still going strong, and at now-shuttered Roses Café locations, which were owned by Subodh Mathur, who passed away two months ago, may he rest in peace.
Since then, I’ve always been happy to come across dosas on various menus. But few dosas delivered the savoury pleasures, never mind the thrill of discovery, of those introductory experiences. Lesser examples have been heavy, grainy or marred by cold stuffings.
That history with dosas has made my recent meals at Thanjai Restaurant in the Glebe seem all the more delicious and overdue. The six-month-old eatery, an offshoot of a similarly named Montreal restaurant, specializes in dosas of myriad shapes and varieties — I count more than 40 of them on the detailed, multi-page menu. Most are vegetarian, a few meaty. Appetizers, curries and some rice and noodle dishes basically round out the menu.
At Thanjai, there are standard dosas, made with batters of fermented crushed rice and lentils and therefore gluten-free, wrapped around spiced potatoes and other stuffings, and accompanied by spicy sambar (a vegetable stew) and chutneys with coconut or tomato bases. There are rava dosas made with wheat semolina and rice flour — not gluten-free, but still vegan. There are remarkably thin, crispy “paper” dosas turned into indulgences with the addition of ghee (clarified butter). Some signature dosas here come with the inclusion of “rare” or “extremely spicy” chillis from the South Indian states of Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh.
Based on the consistently enjoyable and interesting food that I’ve so far eaten at Thanjai, I wouldn’t mind trying them all.
The restaurant’s friendly Ottawa-based co-owner, who chatted with my table during my last visit, said his food was uncompromisingly authentic. I’d take the general spiciness of many dishes, including some that don’t have the chilli symbol beside them on the menu, as one indicator, as well as the bone-in, unfussed-over chicken in the Chettinad chicken curry as another.
At the same time, other no-less tasty dishes here didn’t scorch our palates or stomachs. Thanjai’s menu also has a five-item “kids corner” stocked with its dishes at their most plain and in smaller portions.
I’ve opted to begin meals here with more uncommon appetizers that brought jolts of flavour. Rather than more usual samosas, we’ve had the potato-and-peas-stuffed pastries served “chaat” or street-food style. In samosa chaat ($8), the treats were more shareable, broken into pieces and bolstered with chutneys, onion, coriander and spices.
Also irresistible was a plate of egg bhurji ($8), in which small, tautly scrambled curds were onion-enhanced and potently spiced. Chilli chicken ($14) from the menu’s Hakka (Chinese-influenced) section, featured boneless pieces of meat in a sauce of pronounced heat and sourness. Even the mild version was not shy on flavour.
Deep-fried shrimp ($14) were more notable for spicy flavour than succulence. Tomato-y rasam soup ($6) teemed with spiciness and tanginess.
My favourite dosas here were eminently light and delicious simply as savoury crepes in their own right, fillings and chutneys aside. I’m most partial to the ghee paper masala dosa ($12), which was remarkably thin and curled, spanning our table and smacking of buttery goodness. Masala dosas that added mushrooms ($13), spinach and home-made cheese ($13), curried fish ($14), curried lamb ($15) were faultless and more filling.
I could also be happy to skip the dosas at Thanjai, provided that I had some uttapam instead. Thick, puffy and tangy, uttapam is the gluten-free pancake to the dosa’s crepe. The uttapam that we tried were comfortingly spongy and well suited for sopping up chutney, although the one that promised caramelised onions came with onions that were simply sautéed.
We’ve tried two rice dishes — lamb biryani ($15) and the more obscure bisi bele bath ($10), a jumble of rice, lentils and vegetables native to Karnataka. Both dishes brimmed with flavour and homeyness, although I wondered whether the rice, on the mushy side, would have been thought of as overcooked by Karnatakans.
For an alternative starch, we tried Thanjai’s lamb kothu ($15), one of four dishes that takes chopped paratha flatbreads as its foundation. It, too, was addictively good, a peppery, filling and comforting mish-mash.
From Thanjai’s selection of desserts, I’ve not been able to try the designated special, rava kaseri, a South Indian semolina pudding. But two desserts that I did try struck me as small but optimal meal-enders. Gulab jamun (fried, spongy milk balls in syrup, $3) was not overly floral, and rasmalai, a ball of home-made cheese in condensed milk ($2) was as refreshing as could be.
The dining area, which seats about 50 people on two floors, is long and narrow with green walls covered with large mirrors. It can get loud in there.
The restaurant is licensed, with a limited selection of wine, beer and spirits. Imported Indian soft drinks are also available.
Service has been to the point and knowledgeable, with one lunch-time server who was especially good at guiding our choices. Another server was a little too insistent at upselling us some appetizers, and there was a wait for food that dragged on when Thanjai was particularly busy.
But these small offences were very easy to forget once an array of delightful dosas landed at our table.