Back to basics at Indian Street Food Co.
“The problem with Indian food,” says Hemant Bhagwani, owner of Indian Street Food Co. at Bayview and Eglinton, “and I was No. 1 guilty of doing it, is the cream and butter we add, watering down the spices.”
The restaurateur, who grew up in India, attended cooking school in Switzerland, and then earned a master’s in marketing in Australia, says he’s come full circle with the food he serves. After launching the successful Amaya in north Toronto in 2007, the restaurant grew into a mini-chain — there are now 14 Amaya Express locations — with Bhagwani gradually dumbing down the cuisine to pursue the largest possible audience.
But when he opened in the Eaton Centre food court, he decided to ditch pandering items such as cheeseburger samosas and Indian tacos.
“Taking that risk, with a McDonald’s and Thai Express there, I was very nervous,” Bhagwani says, as we sit in the dining room for a preservice staff meal. “I thought I was going to go bankrupt there. My rent is $36,000 a month. But then the first night I ran out of food at 7 o’clock. That’s where I started knowing that the authentic food sells best.”
After selling off a large portion of Amaya (though he’s still the majority shareholder), Bhagwani has turned the original location on Bayview Ave. into Indian Street Food Co., shifting the focus to street-food dishes. And while ISFC’s no-tipping policy is getting all the press — a move made to balance out the disparity in pay between cooks and servers — there’s also a big shift in the cooking, getting away from the gastronomic crutches of butter and cream, eliminating them in all but two dishes.
Chefs Sudhan Natarajan, Kamleshwar Prasad and Devender Singh, in Canada on one or two-year visas, were hired away from restaurants in Dubai, New Delhi and Seoul, respectively.
“Because I wanted to do very authentic food,” Bhagwani says, “I could not find talent here.”
The chefs whiz around the kitchen in their red chef jackets, cooking naan to order by dipping their arms into the tandoori oven without hesitation. When Singh has me make naan, the 950 F tandoori oven singes off half of my arm hair in the two seconds it takes to lower the dough and press it against the interior wall of the oven.
Natarajan giggles and says I’ve just gotten a free waxing.
He walks me through making staff meal, also loki, a basic potato curry with bottle gourd, also known as calabash. While sautéing onions, he pinches off green curry leaves, adding base notes of mustard and cumin from the 11 square metal boxes sitting next to the stove containing red, yellow, green and brown ground spices. Once it’s simmering he folds in ginger and coriander, wanting those flavours to carry a non-mellowed bite.
Bhagwani says that in his years as a restaurateur, diners have grown to recognize and appreciate the subtleties of Indian cooking, estimating that 70 per cent of his current clientele have been to India.
“People are more travelled. They want more authenticity,” he says. “You can present it in a nicer way, but the more authentic you keep it, the better you do.” The ‘no tipping’ rule When Bhagwani decided to do away with tipping for the launch of Indian Street Food Co. last November, he wasn’t expecting news vans to descend on opening day. Or for private, vitriolic comments from other restaurateurs, upset that he’s challenging the status quo.
He was looking for a way to change the traditional structure of a restaurant, specifically the income disparity between cooks and servers.
Typical earning for Toronto cooks is about $14 an hour (more if the restaurant tips out the back of house, though that’s not standard) and, with tips, $25 to $30 for servers, according to Bruce McAdams, who teaches hospitality and economics at the University of Guelph.
At Indian Street Food Co., there’s a 12-per-cent administration fee added to each bill, which is combined with 10 per cent of the restaurant’s gross sales for a total of 22 per cent, divided evenly among staff.
It’s just one model. Another, being adopted by the Union Square Hospitality Group in New York, and by Bill Sweete (owner of Sidecar and Toronto Temperance Society) in Toronto, is to raise menu prices roughly the same rate of the average tip, with a percentage of total revenue paid to each employee. I’ve spoken to other restaurateurs — Arshad Merali of Kanpai Snackbar in Cabbagetown, Geoff Kirkland of the Lantern Restaurant & Grill in Lakefield — who are planning variations of the same thing.
Consumers have gotten used to having a measure of control over restaurant servers, in a way we don’t with, say, car mechanics or supermarket cashiers. Imagine if the government set a sub-minimum wage rate (as they do for servers — their wage is $9.80 compared with the provincial minimum of $11.25) for those jobs and we got to decide if their labour was worth our subsidizing their pay.
Servers have not been applying to Bhagwani’s new restaurant, he says, probably because they expect they’ll be earning less. Everyone on the floor the night that I’m in the kitchen is fresh. None of them have served before.
“That’s fine,” Bhagwani says. “I’d rather train somebody new.”
Another reason for the change in pay structure is to incentivize everyone through profit sharing.
In most restaurants, when diners come in near closing time, the kitchen grumbles. There’s no bonus for their staying late. Here, another table means all the employees earn more money.
Chicken Tikka
Lined up on a skewer, each piece of chicken exposed to the 950 F heat of the tandoori oven, this dish cooks in 10-15 minutes. At home, I baked it in clay bowls (like for French onion soup). Piling the meat together lengthens the cooking time. Chicken Tikka Marinade 4 boneless skinless chicken breasts, sliced into large pieces 2 tbsp (30 mL) ginger, minced 2 tbsp (30 mL) garlic, minced 2 tsp (10 mL) salt 2 tsp (10 mL) chili powder 1 tbsp (15 mL) garam masala 2 tsp (10 mL) ground cumin 2 tsp (10 mL) fenugreek 2 tbsp (30 mL) vegetable oil 2 tbsp (30 mL) lemon juice 2 tbsp (30 mL) cilantro, chopped 3 green chilies, chopped In a large bowl, mix chicken with ginger, garlic, salt, chili powder, garam masala, cumin, fenugreek, vegetable oil, lemon juice, cilantro and green chilies. Marinate and refrigerate for up to 4 hours. Chicken Tikka Yogurt Sauce 2 tbsp (30 mL) ground cumin 2 cups (500 mL) yogurt 2 tbsp (30 mL) ginger, minced 2 tbsp (30 mL) garlic 1 tsp (5 mL) salt 1 tbsp (15 mL) chili powder 1 tbsp (15 mL) garam masala 2 tsp (10 mL) fenugreek 2 tsp (10 mL) vegetable oil 2 tbsp (30 mL) cilantro, chopped Preheat oven to 475 F/245 C.
In a small pan, roast cumin in oven until it darkens, about 2 minutes.
In a large mixing bowl, whisk yogurt, ginger, garlic, salt, chili powder, garam masala, fenugreek, vegetable oil, cilantro and roasted cumin.
In the mixing bowl, coat marinated chicken in yogurt sauce. Transfer to casserole dish. Bake until cooked through, about 35 to 50 minutes, depending on size of chicken chunks and how densely they’re layered (piled high, it’s going to take longer than if spread out). Slice into a couple of pieces to make sure they’re cooked. Makes 4 servings.
Star Tested by Corey Mintz mintz.corey@gmail.com