Surya
302 Bleecker St. Between Seventh Ave. South & Grove St. [map]
A far cry from the pepper lights of the East Village's Curry Row, and even further from Murray's Curry Hill, sits slightly sexy Surya, a shotgun storefront trafficking in mildly prettied-up North Indian staples. Even on a bustling Saturday night, a party between four and six can expect to be seated within half an hour, time that can be spent at the front bar with one of six or seven house martini's, all bearing ridiculous names--if vindaloo seems like something you want to drink, then perhaps this won't bother you-- and fine reputations as tasty tipples.
Speaking of Vindaloo, Surya prepares one of the finest vindaloo's I have tried, the tomato based stew available in Chicken or Lamb spiced perfectly with a blazing, sweat-inducing heat that doesn't overwhelm the rich and complex flavors of the base. Not finding anything you want on the menu? Surya honors requests, but buyer beware, as this has been attempted with mixed results by the reviewers of this site. On the plus side, a Chicken Curry ordered off-menu by my colleague, who could be called the brooklyn correspondent perhaps, was deemed a worthy dare, filling the curry bill nicely. Meanwhile, Lamb Chettinad, an on-menu item featuring a dark, tamarind and onion sauce, was pistol whipped by a request for a bit more spice. The folly follows herewith: rather than respice the dish to accomodate the request, a few of those nasty, brutal little red chillies were tossed in and the dish seemingly nuked, resulting in a melee of unevenly cooked lamb pieces overwhelmed by the heat of the peppers.
The moral of the story: stick to the menu, and you can't miss. Stick to the menu during the lunch special, when all menu items are 50% off, and you really can't miss. The service is good, the price reasonable--albeit a bit higher than many indian restaurants--and the food reliable, but if the challenge of testing the kitchen piques your pupick, lower your expectations. Quickly. The menu is the menu for a reason: these guys are good going by the book, but if you want improv, expect your Uncle Shecky and his nose harp, not Coltrane.