Indian Flame worth a trip to Wynantskill
Strip mall locale belies attention to authentic flavors
Modern Indian. That’s how Indian Flame describes itself in spite of an unmodern location in a strip mall beside Family Dollar and a nail salon, with McDonald’s and Dunkin’ squaring off across the street. Technically, this is Main Avenue, or Route 66, in Wynantskill, but as a continuation of Pawling Avenue, it could be South Troy. What stands out is the unlikelihood you’d be in this area if you don’t live nearby. But while there’s little in this stretch beside an American Legion outpost and Village Discount Wine & Liquor, Indian Flame is worth a trip.
Evidently, we’re not the first to know. Showing up a little after 4:30 p.m., the opening time for dinner (there’s also a daily lunch buffet), we find three other booths already filled. With sun streaming through the storefront windows of the former Rusty’s Pizzeria, there’s steady foot traffic collecting takeout or staying to dine in. By 5:15 p.m. twothirds of the restaurant is full, with some of the pickup crowd still waiting like us, though we’re killing time with appetizers and chai. Soon it’s clear the kitchen is struggling to keep up in spite of smiling servers ferrying kitchen updates. It appears table service is getting out more quickly, but our wait for takeout exceeds a 90 minutes, so I’d strongly recommend ordering in advance. Aware of the long lag, management gave a discount when we paid.
The meal was worth for. I’m a fan enough of dosa — the oversized rice-and-lentil crepes and the all-day favorite of South India — to order the ghee version made with clarified butter. It appears rolled in a glorious gold scroll vastly exceeding the diameter of a plate and smelling irresistibly of warm butter. Crispy when ripped, it has that caramelized chewiness from ghee and comes with spicy vegetable sambar and two cooling chutneys: one, a finely ground creamed coconut; the other, a finely grated beet. My daughter added an appetizer of mango shrimp, which we scoop onto gold dosa folds, letting sweetness offset the sambar heat, though the three lone shrimp are fewer than we expect. With our dosa, we sip scalding masala chai huffing cardamom in its aromatic steam, and rich-bodied, chicory Madras Indian coffee that’s been poured into furiously hot milk. Its origins are in the worker-run intelligentsia coffee houses of 1930s India, and it’s still available almost anywhere you see dosa or idli for sale.
Indian Flame’s modern angle is present in the bright, spacious interior. Industrial
ducts have been painted red to match the booths; dark wood contrasts colorful wall art. It’s very much an unexpected surprise from the beige strip mall exterior and certainly a place you’d happily stay to eat.
I listen to others ordering chicken tikka masala and chicken 65 — standards most people know and likely offered in the lunch buffet that includes chicken malabar and fish vindaloo. But this “modern Indian” menu is full of surprises. Under Indian Flame Tandoor Treasures is a yogurt- and spice-marinated rack of lamb. Calamari sits confidently beside chicken soup, a hearty, collagenrich chicken soup for the soul, although there’s classic South Indian mulligatawny, too. Of course, there’s tikka masala, butter chicken, chettinad and potato aloo gobi or spinach-cheese saag paneer, but also chemmen mango curry, a Kerala delicacy, Punjabi-style black lentil dal makkani and mutter (matar) tofu, rarely found anywhere upstate.
I’m excited to have tamarind rice, its subtle sweetness offset by oxblood dried chile peppers leaching mild heat hidden among the loose grains. With it, we heap on Kadai chicken, the sauce chunky with garlic, onion and tomato. Lamb (or goat, if you prefer) in the boti kebab masala is fork-tender, submerged in its lightly sweetened creamy tomato sauce scented with cumin and garam masala. That dal makkani is coconut-thickened, dark with black lentils and creamier than most dal, while chemmen mango curry is the palest green, mango sweetened and thinned with coconut milk. Matar tofu is densely populated with the peas that are the star of the show — creamy too, though unexpectedly light in color, seemingly without the tomatoes it’s commonly made with in the north of Inida.
I added Kuttanadan duck roast, a Kerala specialty, expecting something dry roasted, but it’s also tender chunks in a garlic-scented, coconut sauce we scoop up with warm naan. By now plates are a kaleidoscope of colors, curries running together to be swabbed by naan and basmati rice. Out of habit, I bought cool yogurt raita as a condiment, knowing I always have mango chutney in my fridge. The desi pyaza is literally a serving of lemon wedges and whole red onion sliced in rings. We pile them on, adding acid and crunch.
Owners Sujith Surendran and Solwin George, who is also the chef, are longtime friends from Kerala, a southwestern coastal state. They’ve brought their decade-long industry experience working in Washington and Virginia restaurants to the Capital Region with their concept of modern Indian. They say they’ve “customized (it) to American tastes and bringing a broad array of dishes for Americans to try.” Like their fusion rack of lamb given tandoor treatment in yogurt and spices, there are tandoori wings to upgrade your wing game. Next time you’re watching football, order these. As spicy as you can handle, juicy from the yogurt marinade and intensely flavored, they’re served with crisp, shredded cabbage to cool off your tongue.
Generally speaking, the cuisine of South India is based around rice, lentils and stews, so the variety of dosa, sambar spices and creamy curries, along with hot, spicy rasam soup, reveals the connection to the south, but it’s a broad menu that takes liberties and detours. When ordering, our server asks whether we want each dish to be mild, medium or hot, so in spite of the generally uniform mild spice level, anyone who wants to can dial up the heat. You’ve heard me opine that every town deserves a reliable Indian restaurant, but it rarely means you need to take a drive to a neighboring town. One is often like the next, with some notable exceptions like the desi pizza at Masala House in East Greenbush or the belly-dancing, thali platters and fusionPakistani dishes at the now temporarily closed Curry Patta, formerly in Altamont. But if you’re in the vicinity of South Troy/Wynantskill, put Indian Flame on your list.