Indian vegetarian places are overabundant in the Nana-Asoke neighborhood, so the fact that Indian Chaat is tucked away in a little sub-soi off 31 and has none of the aggressive sidewalk welcome and corny starched linen of its peers is a welcome change. The menu, too, has many dishes that while common on the streets of Delhi and Mumbai, are rarely seen on the menus of proper sit-down dinner places. Sadly, though, none of this has brought in the crowds, and with the exception of the occasional quiet pair of diners, the place remains empty, and the doting service tinged with a touch of desperation. The barebones and frankly sad décor (despite the pretty swank location—it’s just a stone’s throw from Narz and The Eugenia) is partly to blame. But it’s also the food, which just can’t compete in this cuisine’s very large market. The gol guppe (crispy fritters with a light potato and cumin water filling, B50) are very crispy and the cumin water delicious and spicy, but fireworks are impeded by the mass-produced tamarind chutney. The assorted pakoras (B70), too, suffer from a too-thick and floury batter that overshadows the vegetables inside. The mains fare a bit better, like the high-quality kidney beans used in the rajma masala curry (B90), the creamy and light Punjabi kadhi (yoghurt curry with dumplings, B90) and the zinging, but slightly overcooked, Chinese Hakka noodles (B100). The food is homey, to be sure, but fails to dazzle. Suppose you were sent away to study at a modest boarding school in an Indian hilltown, and were staying with the elderly headmaster and his wife, whose food was not nearly as good as your mom’s, but reasonably pleasant to come home to anyway—that’s what the food at Indian Chaat reminds us of. In Bangkok terms: if you needed a greasy, authentic-but-not-great, post-hangover pick-me-up that didn’t require putting on proper clothes, this is a perfectly sound and inexpensive option—even if you could find better elsewhere.
