June 19th, 2006
Madras Masala
A few years ago I spent the summer in India and since then I've occasionally had unbelievable craving for Indian dishes I've yet to encounter in the U.S. Today, for whatever reason, I could think of only what my friend Betsy respectfully referred to as "floating balls in syrup", that is to say Indian desserts.
Although most American Indian restaurants offer sweets like kulfi (pistachio ice cream) or kheer (rice pudding flavored with rose water), it's more difficult to find the ball-shaped Indian dainties known as rashobora, rara laddoo or mysore pak. Indian grocers usually stock them and by my own good fortune I happen to live close to two of them.
I'd walked past Madras Masala nearly every day on my way home from work and never bothered to visit, probably for fear of being stared down and/or giggled at in Hindi. I adore most things Indian, most especially, unsurprisingly, the food, but I abhor the "trendy" Indian practices like bindis and henna that have been reappropriated by American pop culture. Consequently, I shudder at being perceived as some Gen X twit who thnks India is all yoga and chicken tikka masala.
This evening, however, I was too crazed for ghee, sugar, and coconut to care. I swung open the door to Madras Masala and was hit promptly with the odors cardamon, tumeric, and incense. The narrow store aisles were jammed with with bags of rice, lentils, and hundreds of spices and a refridgerator filled with plastic cartons of sweets, nan, paratha, and other prepared foods rested in the corner. For $5 I bought a sampler variety of some of my favorite sweets plus a few others that were unrecognizable to me (help, help, Indian readers!).
After several nibbles of each I satisfied my craving in that I sufficiently reminded myself how cloying sweet Indian desserts are, especially those floating balls in syrup. The saccharine quality mixed with the gritty texture was a far cry from the creamy, moist sweets I remembered. Nostalgia mixed with blurry recollection must have convinced me that I once loved these treats; that, or Madras Masala needs to check some expiration dates. I'll reserve rating on the shop as a whole lest my foreign tongue be just an unworthy judge.
The Info
Madras Masala
191 Harvard St., Brookline
617-566-9943
June 20th, 2006 at 8:37 am
I’ve never been a huge fan of Indian desserts. Way too sweet. Are the little square things halvah?
That store is pretty good, though I tend to go to Kashmir catacorner on Harvard Ave. instead. The parathas in the fridge section are a huge timesaver if you’re cooking an Indian meal.
July 2nd, 2006 at 12:12 pm
At Madras masala you should have no ***fear of being stared down and/or giggled at in Hindi. ***
The language there is Tanil not Hindi (Madras is the capital of Tamilnadu), the Mistress of Spices is too stern to giggle - I doubt she did it when she was a little girl even..
Balls in Syrup — Gulaab Jamun (jaa -moo-n)
Goldren orb — Laddoo (luh- do)
Snow-white slab — Sown-papdi
the rest are generic Mithai.
Stick with madras masala - the owner is a very nice woman though she doesn’t always smile….
January 3rd, 2007 at 3:10 am
buy phentermine
news