I remember when I first had Indian food. There was nothing extraordinary or romantic about that first exposure to Indian cuisine. In actuality, that first taste came about by way of, “Hey, let’s get Indian.” There was no elaborate story leading up to that foray, no reason for suggesting Indian to my friends, other than that I had seen this restaurant, Brahma Bull, every time I had Japanese food at Edo-ya and we were hungry high school students looking for a cheap buffet. The moment that first spoonful of curry hit my tongue, there was a moment of enlightenment–it wasn’t a Eureka! light bulb type of moment, but rather that feeling of finally being able to establish a link that interconnected many of the flavors and spices that I’ve enjoyed gorging on: curry powder. Up until then, I didn’t know that all the different variations of curry that I enjoy so much–Japanese, Chinese–came from Indian cuisine.
Now, regardless of how much I smell and how much my gut suffers afterwards, I am confident in saying that there is hardly ever a time where I am not up for eating Indian food (other foods on the list include: Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese, Thai, and Southern–actually, what isn’t on this list?) However, I am in no way an expert, or even well-versed, in the cuisine. Although comfortable ordering on my own, I still welcome the opinion of my Indian friends when looking over a menu, and I’ll readily admit that my palate, can only distinguish between delicious and pretty delicious when it comes to Indian spices.
Masala was given a “Best of Fresno” award, which led me to have at least some expectations when I chose to eat there with a friend. Fresno doesn’t have too many Indian restaurants, to my knowledge, so I didn’t know what type of edge the restaurant had to win such an award over others. The restaurant was quite empty when we entered. Was it an indication of what was in store? Or was it because most people would choose to eat at neighboring Hooters and Red Robin instead? From my experience, it may have been a mix of both.
The samosas we ordered looked like any other samosas that I’ve ever had: a quasi-pyramidal chunk of vegetable matter wrapped in what seems to be a giant wonton skin. After a couple bites, subtle differences were noticeable, even by my uneducated Indian palate. First, the filling was almost entirely potato. Other versions of samosas I’ve had also had potato, but they also had a good amount of other vegetables to add a little variety to color and texture, not to mention making me feel better for eating a giant ball of fried potato. In addition, the skin was a little chewy, possibly because the samosa had been taken out of the fryer abruptly, not allowing the entire skin to be fried. I’m not so sure if that’s how they’re usually made, but that layer of unfried dough has never been evident in the past.
For our main dishes, we ordered an eggplant dish, not unlike in consistency to what I would normally get at Trader Joe’s, and malai kofta, what I would describe as seasoned vegetable balls in sauce. I’ve become a fan of malai kofta ever since a good friend of mine introduced the dish to me in college. Now, it’s almost a requisite dish whenever I eat Indian, even taking the place of a meat dish. It’s a dish that’s drowned in a buttery and savory sauce, sprinkled with raisins and nuts, that should usually be poured and mixed with any leftover rice and devoured immediately after all the substance of the dish (the vegetable balls) has been eaten. The malai kofta were softer than what I had had at other restaurants, which almost had the quality of mush, in my opinion. I would’ve preferred it to have some more density to it. The sauce, which I think gives each dish a unique personality, was too salty. Even on the rice, I couldn’t stomach the thought of eating all the sauce without popping a couple anti-hypertension pills.
The eggplant (I really wish I had a better photo and the actual name of the dish), on the other hand, was much better, because I expected it to be a dish of just mush, which is usually the state of eggplant I usually prefer to eat. I wasn’t too spicy or salty, and had a good balance of spices which lent it a strong flavor that could be balanced out by naan or rice, but it wasn’t necessarily required. I know that Indian food is usually unique because of it’s spices, which lends a bold kick to many of its dishes, but this was the best dish out of all the ones we ordered, and it was so by leaps and bounds by way of its subtleties.
My last beef (ha!) with Masala, which I believed to be an unforgivable sin, was that they served us short/medium-grained rice instead of basmati rice with our dishes. Maybe my expectations have been built up too much because every other Indian place I’ve been to has served basmati rice, but whether it is standard or not, I would really prefer to have basmati rice with my Indian food. Growing up in an Asian family, I’ve learned to appreciate and discern the different types of rice available in different cuisines. If I’m not going to get my basmati rice at an Indian restaurant, then I might as well eat some Trader Joe’s Spicy Eggplant at home, accompanied by short-grained Japanese rice. Did I mention that Masala’s eggplant was only marginally better than Trader Joe’s?
Masala Indian Cuisine
7735 N Blackstone Ave Fresno, CA (559) 431-0060
