Review: Tandoori Hut in St. Louis

Almost all of us have had a similar experience: We go to a restaurant for the first time, and we enjoy it. Things aren't perfect, but the meals are tasty and freshly prepared.

We go away happy.

But when we return, a short time later, it's as if a group of Stepford siblings has taken over, and practically everything has, in the old phrase, gone to hell in a handbasket.

I don't know what transpired at the Tandoori Hut, but after a very good meal, we ran into a series of circumstances that left us feeling the way Phil Mickelson must have felt after missing two short putts on the 17th hole of the final round of the U. S. Open.

Depressed. Frustrated. Unhappy.

The Tandoori Hut is a former fast-food operation, which provide many sites for rookie restaurateurs. It's small, but neat, and it serves lunch from a buffet line.

We went for dinner, and were a little disturbed to find, even in the 21st century, a one-fork restaurant, which means the fork was taken from the used plate and put down on the glass table top to wait for the next course. It's a small thing, but it leaves a poor impression on many diners. The question of glass table tops also is a problem. Glasses filled with iced drinks tend to sweat from condensation and water then drips onto the table top. With a tablecloth, the water is absorbed. Not on glass.

The menu is rather standard for many Indian restaurants, and there's a long list of appetizers and entrees, including dinners cooked in a tandoori oven, where the spice rub applied before cooking tends to turn the meat (chicken is best, I think) a red-orange that can be startling to first-time diners. Indian restaurants also are strong on vegetarian choices; Tandoori Hut has 14, most of them cooked in tomato sauce and many with cheese. Indian breads also are first-rate, and both the papadam, so paper-thin it's like a cracker, but made from lentil flour and spiced, then fried. Papadam is like Cracker Jack – they just go down so easily they are almost addictive.

Ambarsari fish, pieces sized for two bites, marinated in a variety of spices like ginger and coriander, then fried, was delightful. It's a Punjabi dish, accompanied by a red and a green chutney dipping sauce that added some tanginess. I wouldn't call them hot, but warm would be a good description. In addition to the use of vegetables, Indian chefs use yogurt a lot, and an appetizer of balls of lentil flour, soaking in a mild yogurt sauce, was satisfactory, but bland.

An assortment of pakoras and samosas, flour dumplings (chick pea flour for pakoras) stuffed with various meat and vegetable combinations, also are available. If they're fresh and hot, they can be very good, but sometimes they are heavier than they should be.

The breads seem a little different: The nan, for example, was so puffy as to make one wonder about the use of yeast in the dough. It was, however, delicious, hot and fresh, a little crisp here and there. Roti, on the other hand, was supposed to be whole wheat but did not appear to be. It was crisper than the nan, and not unpleasant, but not what one often sees as roti.

Entrees, unfortunately, brought mixed results. I thought $16.99 was rather expensive for five curried shrimp (large, but not huge) in a spicy sauce with no potatoes or vegetable. The shrimp were good, though slightly overcooked, and the curry sauce was barely satisfactory. Far tastier, and very well-spiced, was dal makhani, a vegetarian dish of black lentils and red beans in a tangy sauce that showed black pepper, garlic, ginger and other spices. Again, on the expensive side, especially for a vegetarian dish, but worth it.

Lamb biryani, chunks of tasty lamb, nicely trimmed, with basmati rice and a handful of green peas, was helped by a good addition of fenugreek (similar to anise or licorice), pepper and garlic. This one also seemed to have some tomato sauce in it. This may be a family or a regional twist, but since lamb always loves the proximity of tomato, this works extremely well. Tandoori chicken, broiled to the perfect point, was moist and tender, properly spiced and probably the most successful dish of the two visits. 

Another tasty dish, though on the high side at $9.99, was a small serving dish with peas and potatoes in an onion gravy. Good touches of pepper and ginger brought it to tingling life.

Raita, a chilled, yogurt-based side dish, often served with a a handful of green onions sprinkled on top and a nice feeling of spice in the aftertaste, was very different, arriving sprinkled with coriander for an unusual and spicier, but equally as flavorful.

Interestingly, nearly all the dishes were at least a little sweet, from the roti to the raita. Only the biryani escaped. I'm not sure if that is the Sikh style – a few inquiries left us without a sufficient answer – or just the choice of the chef. None of the dishes was searingly hot, so the sweetness was more obvious.

The usual ice cream and gulab jamun, or milk balls soaked in a sweet syrup, are available as desserts.