Restaurant Review #3: A Saucy Expedition

Name: Tanjore - Cuisine of India

Location: Fishkill, NY, and another in Rhinebeck, NY

Prices: Reasonable

Food: With either a small poke to your tongue, or the taste equivalent of a kick to the shin, Tanjore provides as authentic of an Indian restaurant experience as you can get in a small town in Hudson Valley, NY. Non-adventurous eaters, and wimps to spice, take great care.

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you... It was just three days until my boyfriend, Michael, was to turn twenty, and in customary fashion of many families, the coming of a new year of accomplishing whatever goals and not dropping dead brought on the opportunity for a family dinner out. To my pleasure, I was invited to attend, though until more research was done, no solid plan had been thought up before my invitation was sent out. After typing 'best Indian food in the Hudson Valley' into the Google search bar, the top result yielded would lead to quite the wondrous night: Tanjore.

After about a twenty-five minute drive (and a detour that involved two loose dogs and forgotten teeth), we arrived at the building, which was placed in the corner of a small shopping plaza. Or are they called mini-malls? I digress. As we walked into the building, we were greeted not only by the refreshing blast of the air conditioning, but also the rather pleasant, mellow decor. Red velvet curtains with golden tassels, earthy colors painted on the walls, adorable flower boxes lining the dividers that rested between tables. Clean and aesthetically pleasing, I would like to say. My group and I also noticed the large ratio of Indian-Americans to white Americans, sitting in the restaurant. I had to grin - if you see people in the restaurant from a country that the fare originates from, it has to be good.

Sitting down, we had to wait around ten minutes for the waiter to come over to us and take our drink menu. And from that statement, allow me to draw your attention to a few simple facts about Tanjore this night: there were only about ten to thirteen tables in the whole restaurant, and half of them weren't even occupied. Neither I, nor Michael, nor Bill, nor Michelle could see that much of the help running around. But that, I learned, is a grand circumstance of the majority of all Indian restaurants: if the service sucks donkey-bars, then the food has to be good. Reassurance number two that I was in for a great time.

When the waiter finally showed his face, we gave him our order. For Michelle, a beer. For Bill and Michael, a lime soda, one of the specialty drinks. And for me, a mango lassi, which is mandatory for me during any Indian food consumption. I first tasted a bit of the lime soda, and wasn't dazzled at all by it. The best way to describe it is Simply Limeade, an overly-sweetened brand of limeade, with more sugar added, diluted in carbonated water. Michael was rather disappointed in the lack of tartness that would have lent the drink more flavor. Next came my drink, the lassi, a drink made of pureed mango, yogurt, rose water, cardamom, and occasionally lime. It had the perfect smoothie consistency, not lumpy or too thick, though it did take a bit more of a nudge to get itself up the straw. My only negative comment on it was that it could be colder, as only the flavor in itself was able to offer the refreshing sensation where the temperature fell flat and failed.

After placing our dinner order, we sat to enjoy our drinks, exchange words of playful ridicule, and enjoy a brief snack that was left on the table: pappadam, a thin, crispy, matzo-like bread accompanied by three sauces. One was a creamy sauce with mint and cilantro, another like a spiced barbecue sauce, and the third like a Middle-Eastern pico de gallo (chunky tomato salsa). Personally, I enjoyed the flavors of the cilantro sauce the best, which offered a creamy mouth feel and a noticeable spicy kick. The dark red sauce that was reminiscent of a BBQ was a bit too sweet for my liking in regards to savory dips.

Our food order soon arrived, and the load was staggering. We had ordered Mogilai Murgh Korma, Lamb Rogan Josh, Lamb Vindaloo, Vegetable Biryani, and Raitha. We also ordered a Bread Basket, full of several types of breads, called Nan, for sopping up sauce and cradling meat. Not to mention that all orders come with a large bowl full of basmati rice, several green peas scattered through it. I swear, my fork could not have been picked up by my hand any faster.

The Mogilai Murgh Korma, or Chicken Korma, was cubed chicken chunks, cooked in a rich, creamy, spiced sauce made with saffron, cashews, and almonds, drizzled with cream. This was my absolute favorite of any of the dishes we had ordered that night, and I strongly recommend it for anyone who checks out this restaurant or any Indian joint in general. Especially for those who aren't used to the usual spicy food of India, which can leave you with blistered lips or a sore throat if you haven't built up some immunity to it during your life. The sauce was smooth, creamy, studded with cashew pieces, and packed with flavor, and was the perfect contrast to the spicy counterparts that joined it on the table. It does make me sad at times like this for people with allergies, especially to nuts.

The Lamb Rogan Josh was yet another surprising delicacy that was on the table for me to savor. Pieces of lamb, and chunks of potato and carrots were simmered in a sauce of tomatoes, onions, and cilantro. I enjoyed it for its spicy, garlicky taste and thick red sauce. It was just a bit spicier than the Korma, and the meat was incredibly tender. It rate at a medium on the heat scale at the restaurant, in my opinion.

I can't remember how long I have wanted to try the Indian delicacy, vindaloo. I've seen it on countless television programs, both on the Travel Channel and the Food Network, yet I've never gotten the opportunity to savor it for myself. A dish consisting of meat or vegetables, simmered until tender in a thick, spicy tomato-based sauce. Think of a thick, dark red hot sauce, exploding with different flavors, including a sinus-irritating and sweat-sheen-inducing heat and a light taste of vinegar that could also be mistaken for lemongrass. The wait was definitely worth it, as the dish had to be my second favorite on the table before me. The Lamb Vindaloo included chunks of lamb, just like the Rogan Josh, with chunks of potato and carrot. What was truly surprising about the dish, as Michael's mother, Michelle, pointed out, "It was truly great to enjoy a menu item that is described as hot and actually tastes so." To those who the spice community consider 'wimps,' stick to the kiddie stuff.

Biryani is the Indian equivalent to the fried rice one can get at their local take-away establishment (heh, I'm a Brit). The basmati rice used to compose the dish was spiked with saffron and a variety of other spices that left my tongue tingling about as much as the Rogan Josh had made it. We got the vegetable variation of the dish, and regardless of the lack of meat, the lamb and chicken from the other dishes made up for it.

As biryani is the equivalent to fried rice dishes, nan is the equivalent to the bread, either in loaf or stick form, one can have at their dinner table either at home or at a restaurant. No butter needed here though; nan is used for cradling meat or pulling the leftover sauces off one's plate. I highly suggest the garlic nan, which is studded with bits of onion, garlic, and herbs. It arrives in a warm basket when you order it, freshly made, when you order it, and is the necessary (-coughmandatorycough-) accoutrements for any Indian meal.

And if you're looking for something savory to refresh your tongue and cleanse your palate from the spicy food, order a small bowl of Raitha, a thin, creamy sauce made of yogurt and cucumbers. It's rather thin to be considered a 'relish,' as the menu describes it, but the benefits of having it on your table (or covering your nan, or drizzled over your basmati) outweigh the possibly poor use of vocabulary.

For dessert, I found myself eating two favorites: kheer, and a rice dumpling dish whose name alludes me (and the website does not, unfortunately, supply). Kheer is an exotic form of rice pudding, which is not necessarily something someone who grew up on Kozy Shack would either be too wild about or find the slightest bit odd. The taste of pistachios and cardamom replaces vanilla and cinnamon, so tasters beware. In regards to the rice dumplings... The desert was served in a small silver bowl, three fluffy, golf ball-sized dumplings resting in a hot, thin syrup that tasted a lot like spiced maple syrup. Dessert? I could easily eat that stuff for breakfast. Warning: at Tanjore, do not expect a large dessert when you order it. All of them are served in small portions.

To conclude this entry, I would like to relay a message to all meat eaters, who aren't necessarily aware of that much Indian culture: don't expect to find a steak dish on the menu. As a matter of fact, don't expect any beef items at all. This restaurant holds true to the fact that cows are sacred in India, so if you have your burger or ribeye mentality on, don't come to this restaurant. As a small diamond in the rough in the Hudson Valley, NY, it provides those with very little access to opportunities to eat more exotically, at reasonable prices, too. Remember - depending on your patience with the poor staff attention, and your tolerance to spicy foods, it can mean the difference between an enjoyable meal and a painful experience. For more information on Tanjore - Cuisine of India, look them up on the web and visit them on their website, tanjoreindiancuisine.com, visit them at one of their two locations, or call the following numbers:

845-896-6659 (992 Main Street Plaza [Rt. 52], Fishkill, NY 12524)

845-876-7510 (Agra Tandoor, 5856 [Rt. 9], Rhinebeck, NY 12572)

Peace, love, and chocolate

Kayla~