Taj
200 Gorham Rd., South Portland
828.6677
tajofmaine.com
Indian restaurants in Maine don’t attract many accolades — you kinda just go to one when you really need Indian food. But I’d been hearing a lot of good things about Taj (mostly from my parents), a place in the Clarks Pond area by the mall, so I decided to give it a try.
It’s a sit-anywhere-you-like sort of place. Options range from the table under the TV to the table with a view of Olive Garden. My dining companion and I split the difference and chose one of the tables adrift in the middle of the dining room. A waiter appeared within moments with menus.
The menu at Taj is encyclopedic: ten oversized, laminated pages that, to the uneducated, reads like a compendium of all Indian food, ever. The descriptions are vague and repetitive; almost everything is either “tender” or “creamy,” and more than a few dishes promise a “divine buttery taste.” At least the waiter was helpful. (On a follow-up visit, we asked for recommendations and learned that the restaurant’s owners are from southern India, so we tried a couple specialties from that part of the country — good move.)
Conscious of our budget, we ordered a big Taj Mahal lager ($6) to share, a selection of appetizers, two entrées, and the de rigueur naan, sneaking in just under our $50 (pre-tip and -tax) limit.
A pile of battered onions flecked with spinach, called pakora ($4), came out first. The accompanying homemade tamarind chutney is reminiscent of applesauce: mild, with a delicate sweetness. The onion pakora itself is more robust, and could almost be mistaken for American-style onion rings if not for the distinctive nutty flavor of the chickpea-flour batter.
A second riff on the fried-food theme arrived in the form of crisp, salty mirchi bajji ($4). Whole jalapeños were battered and fried, cut widthwise, and then fried again. They come crowned with lime and slivers of red onion, as is customary. The dish is spicy, but not unbearably so; a rich coconut chutney helps cut the heat.
(During another visit, we started with an onion dosa [$7], a South Indian fermented crepe made from rice flour and black lentils. It’s served with a small bowl of earthy lentil sambhal soup and two chutneys: coconut, and a deliciously bright ginger chutney. The dosa itself is folded in thirds around diced, sautéed onions, and it’s as long as my arm — a formidable appetizer, and tasty, too.)
The entrées arrived. The goat korma ($13) had decadently fatty cuts of goat stewed in a comforting sauce — smoky and barely sweet, creamy and tinged with heat. In the malai kofta ($13), spheres of fried dough are served swimming in a plush red sauce of cashews, garlic, turmeric and cream. It’s a luxurious dish, and a favorite of mine. Unfortunately, the kofta balls at Taj — made with cabbage, carrot, potato, soft Indian paneer, and chickpea flour — were tougher than I’m used to. At least the sauce was silky and appropriately indulgent; I scooped it up eagerly with swatches of warm naan.
Another entrée, bachi dum biriyani ($13), is served only on Fridays and Saturdays at Taj — “But come on Friday,” the waiter said, then shrugged: “Maybe Saturday it’s gone.” In this South Indian specialty, yogurt- and chili-marinated chicken is cooked slowly in a pot with saffron-laced basmati rice and spices, and the result is a complex, enjoyable dish.
Taj is not flamboyant, and the dishes are not perfectly executed (some were too salty). It’s a modest Indian joint out by the mall. It has funny blue movie-theater carpeting and placemats depicting the 44 Presidents of the United States (which is also funny, and fun). But my parents weren’t wrong: for what it is, Taj is a good restaurant serving modestly priced food. If you’re in the mood for Indian comfort food, give Taj a shot.
— Hannah Joyce McCain
