Reviews: Spice Trader

Philadelphia loves its Italian food. We love the waiters with accents and the foreign-phrase-sprinkled menus that lend our neighborhood Italian spots a comforting veneer of authenticity. At the same time, we also love totally inauthentic spaghetti and meatballs from those venerable red-gravy institutions around 9th Street. You can see the same contradiction at Amada, with its vast pantry of imported goodies and a vibe that violates the very spirit of Spanish tapas, which is more of a bar crawl than a fancy meal. But this suits our proclivity for mixing a morsel of the exotic into a familiar Philly dining formula.

So when Lolita opened in 2004, no one really minded that the Mexican fare turned out by chef Marcie Turney was more evocative of other Philadelphia BYOBs than of Baja. Lolita predates the proliferation of real taquerias in the city, and its menu has, at least, always been more authentic than Stephen Starr’s faux Mexican joint, El Vez, across the street. At Lolita, Pennsylvania-grown portabella mushrooms and micro greens share the plate with more traditional Mexican items, like house-made tortillas and carnitas.

Four years later, Turney has proven herself a master of ersatz ethnic once again. In December, she opened Bindi with partner Valerie Safran. (The pair also own the upscale market Grocery and home store Open House, which flank the new restaurant across 13th Street from Lolita.) And as at Lolita, the dishes are vaguely exotic translations of hearty American fare in which meat, fish and fowl command the spotlight.

At Bindi, inspiration comes from Bombay by way of Brooklyn. Unlike chefs who jet around the world in search of authentic recipes and ingredients before unveiling an international restaurant, Turney journeyed just 100 miles north, to the classroom of Julie Sahni, where she studied with the traditional Indian chef and cookbook author for a mere three days. Turney had never visited India, but she was motivated to try her hand at its cuisine after an eye-opening meal at New York City’s upscale eatery Tamarind. Recognizing Philly’s glut of boring (read: Italian) BYOBs, Turney has long felt compelled to make her restaurants more interesting, and Indian cuisine seemed ripe for her brand of reinterpretation.

Turney’s most successful dishes deviate wildly from the Indian versions that serve as her muse. In India, pani puri is a humble street food, puffs of fried dough filled with a mélange of potatoes and chutneys. Turney’s fine-dining iteration is generously stuffed with five-spice scented duck and sweet potato spiked with ajwain, a lemony relative of caraway and cumin. It’s served with a side of cranberry water, a sweet-tart juice that cuts the duck’s richness. Savory and sweet, soft and crisp, the appetizer embodies the flavor and texture contrasts that make well-crafted dishes of any cuisine a pleasure.

Short-rib vindaloo is another retooled classic. In authentic Indian restaurants, vindaloo’s intense chili heat sears your mouth and draws sweat to your brow. Usually, chunks of stewed lamb, chicken, pork or vegetables convey the capsaicin-rich punishment. But Bindi’s vindaloo is a gentle, balanced affair, with a subtle blend of dried chilies and spices infusing the meaty savor of a caveman-portioned hunk of slow-braised beef, an all but outlawed ingredient among India’s mostly Hindu population. Crunchy pickled onions and lemon-doused carrots enhance the dish.