Author(s): Nathan Cobb, Globe Staff Date: July 27, 1995 Page: 6 Section: CALENDAR

One way to eat cheap is to eat ethnic food, and one ethnic food that's particularly cheap is Indian. Flavorful and often spicy, food from India is based on the notion that variety matters. It is created by seasonings that are mixed and matched to create a wide spectrum of tastes. There are also regional differences, and the food found in most Indian restaurants has its roots in northern India: plenty of lamb, plenty of chicken, plenty of spicy and sometimes even luxurious sauces. Which brings us to India Samraat and the Singh family. India Samraat is a small storefront restaurant located on the western side of Massachusetts Avenue in the Back Bay. It is a family-run operation. There are a half dozen or so Singhs from Punjab, including the patriarch and chef, Joginder, catering to students, neighbors and tourists. The last time we spoke to Pardeep, one of Joginder's sons, was on the morning of the Fourth of July. "We'll be packed today," he predicted,
referring to the Esplanade crunch of fireworks fans.

Only three of India Samraat's more than 50 entrees are priced above $10. (Fourteen luncheon specials cost $4.50 to $5.95.) Portions are generous, and, despite some small disappointments, the quality is generally pretty good. The restaurant is small and comfortable, seating about 50 people at
glass-top tables. Service is polite, if subdued. The music in the air is actually Indian, not the Top 40 hits that invade many ethnic restaurants.

Alas, based on an eight-item sampler ($5.95), we can't really recommend India Samraat's appetizers. Traditional items, such as stuffed samosas and deep fried pakoras, were simply too dry, although they were certainly livened up by the onion chutney.

Start instead with a homemade Indian bread or two. The dry whole wheat chapati ($1.75) is very good. So are the trio of multi-layered parathas ($2.95-$3.75), breads that are stuffed with, say, potatoes, cauliflower and peas. There are also several tandoori breads ($1.95-$3.95), cooked in a
charcoal-fired clay oven, which we didn't try.

But we did order chicken tandoori ($8.25), a bright red half bird that looked like it would be dry but was nicely moist and tender inside. "This is like eating lobster," murmured one of our guests.

Our other entrees included a very spicy shrimp vindaloo ($9.95) in which the shrimp were cooked in a broth with potatoes, tomatoes and serious spices; chunks of boneless lamb curry ($7.95) cooked in a thickish brown gravy sauce; saag paneer ($7.25), an excellent vegetarian dish consisting of creamy spinach cooked with chunks of homemade goat cheese; and chicken bhunna ($8.95 at dinner, $5.25 at lunch), which is curry-cooked pieces of chicken in a brown, spicy sauce with onions and tomatoes.." We would call it an acquired taste.

Housed in what appears to be an old pizza joint, India Samraat rightfully boasts superb Indian cuisine. Somewhat embellished, yet not quite transformed, by the garish paintings of Indian Brahmans meditating beneath a shower of gold and the resonant twang of sitar music, the atmosphere is as warm as it is unpretentious.

With the lights set at dim fog, and the high pitched, somber cry of Indian vocals, the subdued environment is an appropriate attempt to disguise the all but interesting décor.

India Samraat, located at 51 Massachusetts Ave., offers luncheons which run Monday-Saturday, 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., and dinner which runs from 5:00 p.m. to 10:30 p.m. Both are reasonably priced and come with the traditional Indian side dishes of Basmati (boiled) rice and fresh hot onion chutney. A deliciously spiced mint chutney is served on the side by the highly attentive staff and the dinner comes complete with soup and dessert.

The lentil soup, a rich blend of lentils, vegetables and spices, is a great way to begin any meal. However, the creamy, sweet coconut soup consisting of milk, coconut cream, ground coconut and pistachio is a wonderful treat in its own right.

Of the host of Indian breads offered, the Aloo Paratha, a multi-layered buttered bread stuffed with potatoes and peas, is as filling as it is tasty. Or, if you desire something lighter, the Poori, a deep fried, puffed bread is the way to go.

Divided into six categories, the India Samraat menu offers something for everybody. Even the most conservative and unadventurous will be able to find and enjoy a filling meal from the diverse selection of chicken, lamb, seafood, vegetable and biryanies (rice) specialties.

For example: appealing to vegetarians and carnivores alike, the Saag Paneer, consisting of fresh, homemade, wonderfully textured cheese cooked with spinach and curry comes mildly spicy and is magnificent.

Or, for those who appreciate the spicy, and to whom battery acid is but a mild tongue stimulant, the Chicken Vindaloo is excellent. This is a chicken curry dish cooked with potatoes and just enough very hot spices to satisfy the discriminating without sacrificing the subtlety of distinction between herbs.

For an appropriate end to the exotic meal, the Gulab Jamun (milk balls soaked in sugar syrup and flavored with rose water) is a delicately sweet far from the ordinary. In addition, the Lassi, a sweet yogurt drink flavored with rose water , may serve as either dessert or beverage with a meal.

Overall, India Samraat is an excellent and easily accessible restaurant for any occasion and a great alternative for those tired of the same old fast food.

We sampled most of the appetizers on the vegetable platter ($3.25) and added a fish pakora ($3.75). We're talking fried morsels here, and a generally good frying job. Our veteran chef has apparently decided to reduce the spices in most of these fritters (the exception is the cumin-lively aloo bada potato patty), giving us the option to enjoy the two dips - a sweet-sour tamarind sauce and a hot fresh onion chutney. So the revelation of the group are the cheese pakoras, because the cheese is homemade and unusually fresh tasting. You get two of those, two vegetable fritters, an aloo bada, a samosa (a triangular potato turnover), and a half papadum on the vegetable platter. Five buttery-tasting fish sticks make up the fish pakora appetizer.

Main dishes are small but rich, and I urge you to try them Indian-fashion, with plenty of the accompanying rice and some condiments and breads. We got all four optional condiments on the condiment tray ($2.25) and didn't regret it, especially for the "fresh homemade hot mix pickle" (95 cents on its own). The mix our day was all carrots, but if you can stand Indian pickles at all, these were enticing. Each strip of carrot was initially crunchy and cleanly sour, then a blast of cumin and a slight afterburn of the typical peppery mustard oil came through. I also admired the mint chutney (60 cents), which worked as a kind of hot green salsa, as well as the generous mild mango chutney and the soothing raita of cucumbers and yogurt.

The rice is real basmati made even more aromatic with cloves and a little saffron. Among the breads, both the chapatti and poori ($1.50 each for two) were buttery - perhaps too much so - foils for the curries.

Dishes are priced two ways: a la carte, which here means with rice and onion chutney, and "complete dinner," which adds soup, dessert, and tea, a $3.35 value for $2 extra. I'm going to recommend against most desserts and quote the a la carte entrée prices, but I should mention that the lentil soup ($1.50) was excellent - smoky and earthy by turns, with an unusual third flavor of sweet maple.

The menu says curries will be "made to your choice - mild to hot." We forgot to specify, and got a middle range. The hottest, and best, may have been the lamb jalfrozie ($6.95), a creamy brown gravy with aromas of onion, coconut, bay leaf, and all the spices of the Subcontinent. The actual cubes of lamb were much milder and less interesting.

Chicken tikka masala ($6.95), however, had ideally tender morsels of roast chicken. This is consistently the best boneless chicken dish served in Boston restaurants, and only gets better with a fine, spicy, cream of tomato sauce like this one.

Shrimp bhunna ($6.95) was a sneaky-hot dish in a similar sauce bringing up more of the onions and peppers. Add tomatoes and you'd have a livelier version of what other Indian restaurants sell as shrimp do piazza, and what American restaurants used to describe as shrimp Creole.

Saag panner ($6,95) is another creamy dish, this one full of spinach, and that mild, homemade cheese. I like it with and without chutneys, so you might order it mild.

India Samaat tries with desserts, but Indian desserts are not well-developed. I think rich sauces got so out of hand under the Mogul empire that shaped northern Indian restaurant food, that there was no appetite left for any dessert more elaborate than fruit. (Ice cream may have been invented in India, but it was in Europe that it developed into what we'd recognize.) In any case, you can describe gulab jamun ($1.25) as "milk balls soaked in sugar syrup with flavor of rose water," but it's still going to underwhelm Boston diners as dough-nut-holes-soggy-with-thin-syrup.

Gujar halwa ($.25) is optimistically translated as "carrot cake." This is one of the better guljar halwas I've tasted, and it's still a cake of shredded carrot without enough sweetness or spice to seem like halvah, which is the same root-word transferred by Turks to mean serious sweets made from sesame seeds or semolina, almonds, pistachio nuts, and honeyed syrups.

You're safe with kheer ($1.25), the simple rice pudding, with almond and raisins, and vanilla ice cream with mango sauce ($1.25), which is exactly what it is.

The tea (60 cents) is superb, obviously brewed from Sri Lanka or Indian tea, and cries out for a fine, ripe pear or slice of Viennese chocolate cake. Well, a thin slicem given the inherent fat content of Indian food.

Service at India Samraat is excellent, especially in the all-important water-refill department. Our waiter did tell one transparent fib when he complimented my efforts to pronounce the names of the dishes. I don't know which is the saag and which is the paneer , and that should be obvious to anyone - unless the fellow came from the same province where everyone flounders in Hindustani.

This is a modest space, and the décor verges on kitsch, with mock-Tiffany lamps, Christmas tinsel ropes, mirrors in arches, fake brick, and so on. I'd toss it all but the prints of what appear to be Hindu scriptural subjects, or maybe those should go, and the tapestry-like rendition of a deer copied no doubt from an L.L. Bean catalogue that found its way to India - should be the centerpiece. In any case, the food is more coherent than the surroundings, at least as they are perceived by American eyes.

Since few Indian restauranteurs may read this particular column, let me explain my running criticism of the standard menu. India is apparently full of distinct cultures and regional specialties. The standard restaurant menu ws fixed in the 1940s. It includes the meaty tandoori roasts of the Muslim north, the overrich Mogul stews, simplified curries, and a few regional dishes, such as vindaloo from Goa. It is more Punjabi than anything else, and most glaringly omits the red-hot vegetarian cuisine of southern India, with its variety of lentil stews, sourdough flatbreads, fried goodies, and distinct sweets.

Aside from the north-south issue, the standard restaurant menu omits a lot of marketable home cooking. Bengal and Bangladesh - and I know there are Bengalis in the restaurant business around Boston - have a variety of stir-fries that resemble simple Szechuan cooking, and we know the market hungers for that stuff. I try to highlight the chef's specialties when I happen on them, but the restaurants don't promote particular dishes, even on the menu. This is a lost opportunity for Indian restauranteurs , and the first of you to point me to a live dhansak or sambar - dishes I must now make at home - will find out what a competitive advantage you might have.