Nirvana Indian Restaurant

I started with pappadams and chutney — the Indian chips and salsa — and a Kingfisher beer. Then I sampled the crunchy battered chicken fingers called pakora and the bhaji. The onion bhaji in American Indian restaurants tastes like a cross between onion rings and Outback's blooming onion, Elton had told me. As I dipped the fried onions in tamarind chutney, I wondered why he thought that was a bad thing.

I spooned a big pile of rice in the middle of my second plate and topped it with small portions of steam-table specialties. The creamy bhuna chicken, seasoned with a mild masala and a faint touch of tomato sauce, was a comfort-food experience that reminded me of chicken à la king. The buttery saag paneer was standard-issue. The yellow lentils seemed a little undercooked. The chickpeas were bland. I skipped the chicken tikka masala.

I went back a third time to try the lamb and goat curry one of my tablemates was raving about. The curry sauce was spectacular, but the "meat" was mostly an assortment of tiny rib bones. In order to eat it, you had to pick up a section of ribs and gnaw the little bits of meat between each of the bones. It was tasty but way more trouble than it was worth.

Things haven't been the same out on Memorial since Indika moved to Montrose. Nirvana suffers by comparison, but then again, so do most of the Indian restaurants in the country. I wouldn't hesitate to recommend Nirvana for some favorite fusion dishes like chicken phal. Just don't expect authentic Brit-Indi food.