Last Train to Delhi
103 Fourth Ave., 613-882-0035,
lasttraintodelhi.com
Open:
Tuesday to Sunday 5:30 to 9:30 p.m., closed Monday
Prices:
starters $10 to $15, mains $16 to $25
Access:
steps to front door
During my two dinners at Last Train To Delhi, the question I’d expected to hear just never came up.
At other Indian restaurants, and generally at eateries where the chilli-based heat of dishes might range from mild to tongue-searing, I’m used to servers asking: “How spicy would you like it?” But at this tiny five-month-old place in the Glebe, the chef and owner, Surinder Singh, knows what his dishes should taste like, and they won’t be customized to be more tepid or fiery.
Of course, in the end, tepidness and fieriness are relative. There are Indian restaurants in Ottawa where a “mild” is more scorching than a “spicy” dish at one of its rivals. Where a restaurant falls on the heat spectrum might depend on whether they’re trying to please spice-craving expat tastebuds or less seasoned palates that are content with less seasoning.
At his restaurant, Singh, who formerly ran the now-closed Tea Party Cafe in the ByWard Market, serves what he calls “progressive Indian cuisine.” His menu, which concentrates on North Indian-inspired dishes, is smaller and more curated. At my first meal here, a server additionally told me that the food is “spiced rather than spicy … We’re not trying to blow people’s heads off.” Indeed, some dishes, I thought, could have used more heat and spicy punch, even if Singh grinds his own spices.
But I was more keen on Last Train to Delhi after my second meal there, which involved, I think, better choices. In all, I’d recommend this restaurant to those who like their Indian food prettily plated, well-composed and crafted, but not roaringly hot.
Last Train to Delhi replaces the tiny Filipino restaurant Tamis Café, which moved to Centretown nearly a year ago. Singh has renovated his Fourth Avenue space and made it more upscale. The dining room’s brick wall remains, but the narrow, contemporary dining area, which seats about 18, is dressed up by a bevy of plants, shelving filled with wines and spirits, and the wine glasses that dot the blond wood tables. Singh cooks away in the small kitchen visible from the dining area.
Our meals have begun with complimentary bowls of curried popcorn, which we thought could have used more zip. At my first dinner, things picked up with a nice tandoori shrimp appetizer ($15), in which the plump shellfish were sheathed in crispy exteriors of fried, shredded potato and bolstered by a pineapple chutney. But the Amritsari fish fry ($22), made with pickerel and accompanied by mint chutney, seemed more casually cooked and made less of an impression.
Another aspect of the kitchen’s progressiveness is its slight tilt toward vegetables over meat. “ We … do not have a lot of meat options and want people to enjoy eating more plants,” the restaurant’s website says. The restaurant is also environmentally minded, and it composts and recycles. “We … try our very best to lower the amount of waste we put to the curb,” its website continues.
At our first meal, the top vegetarian dish was Singh’s kofta curry ($20) made with pleasingly flavourful balls of bottleneck gourd and potatoes in a cashew coconut sauce that did have some lingering but mellow heat. The kitchen’s version of baigan bartha ($17), a dish of meltingly soft eggplant supported by onions and peas ($17), was more restrained flavour-wise than we liked. That night, I also thought the rice needed salt.
At my second visit, we happily ate more dishes that packed some vibrancy and intensity.
All of the chicken dishes appealed. Hariyali chicken kebabs ($14) made with breast meat were sufficiently moist and tender, and their coriander mint sauce delivered a welcome thrill. The Kashmiri chicken korma ($21) appealed too, with exceptionally tender chicken and a full-bodied, nut-enriched sauce. Butter chicken (a.k.a. murgh makhini, $22) was solidly made, too.
Our server, who that night was Singh’s wife, pointed out that the restaurant’s saag paneer ($20) was made authentically, with not just the usual spinach, but also rapini, which added a hint of bitterness, and house-made Indian cheese. It did do more for me than the saag paneers I’ve had elsewhere. We liked just as much Singh’s okra ($17), which was nicely textured and savoury.
Desserts here depart from the usual Indian sweets and offer Western touches. We preferred the cardamom chocolate tart ($9) to the passionfruit pavlova ($9) with a hard meringue.
The range of non-alcoholic drinks at Last Train to Delhi is admirable, including both rose and mango lassis ($5), plus lime soda and lavender lemonade for the yogurt drink-averse. Most of the restaurant’s half-dozen cocktails skew in a tropical direction. The wine list includes bottles between $41 and $65, plus a few by-the-glass choices, but I’d lean more to one of the Canadian craft beers or even one of six whiskeys, as that spirit is popular with food in India.
Perhaps it’s paradoxical, or even faint praise, to suggest that Last Train to Delhi serves Indian food for people who don’t like really spicy food. Better, I think, to focus on the thoughtful, from-scratch feeling of the food here and the hospitality and vibe that’s as mellow and sustaining as Singh’s best dishes.