Rasoi on 50th
4341-50 St., 756-5600

Any Indian restaurant that wants to make a go of it in Edmonton must first struggle out of the shadow of the well-established giants—the New Asian Villages, the Khazanas, the Hawelis, even the sudden outbreak of Daawats popping up across the city. So when a friend tipped me to the existence of Rasoi, a new purveyor of Indian cuisine in Mill Woods, I felt duty bound to make the trip to its strip-mall premises and check it out for myself. 

Part of the reason was that I’d been eating vegetarian for the previous two weeks, and Indian restaurants can be counted on to put up a substantial meatless bill of fare, given the deep tradition of herbivory back in the homeland. Little did I suspect that Rasoi’s menu would break me down and tempt me into the taste of flesh—on the bone, no less.

Rasoi’s interior certainly looks brand new—cool, contemporary, and roomy, if not distinctively Indian, with a patio off the back that might make you forget you’re in a strip mall. The dining room was only lightly populated, and a group of owners at the table adjacent to ours broke from their own feast frequently to look in on us, in addition to the attentions of our server.

My co-diner and I kicked things off with an order of veggie samosas ($3) while we perused the menu—two stout fried pockets of potatoes and peas with chutneys of cilantro and tamarind on the side. We wanted more but curbed our yearnings to save room for entrées, of which there were many to choose from—more than a dozen vegetarian selections alone, with plenty more meat and tandoori dishes to boot. 

Co-diner left it to me to choose, so I ordered up some shahi kaaju aloo ($9), palak paneer ($9), rice ($3), and plain naan bread ($2), noting just then how inexpensive Rasoi’s offerings were relative to the going rate for Indian food in other places. Perhaps that’s where I tumbled off the vegetarian wagon; our meal had barely crossed the $25 mark, which enabled me to talk myself into an order of rogan josh ($12) to, you know, really test out the kitchen.

The platter of steaming, perfectly articulated basmati arrived forthwith, along with a boat of palak paneer—soft homemade cheese simmered in ghee (clarified butter), spices, tomato, and spinach that have been reduced to a rich, dark green goop. It’s one of my favourite Indian dishes and Rasoi’s kitchen had done it justice, imbuing the mire of stewed greens with enough fire to complement the smooth milkiness of the paneer.

The richness of this dish was nothing compared the shahi kaaju aloo, a dish that drenches melting cubes of potato in a sauce of ground cashews and cream fragrant with cardamom—scooping it up with crispy, doughy chunks from the generous order of naan bread (two bucks!) was like having a savoury mid-meal dessert. 

Next I turned my chosen egress from meatless eating, the rogan josh. I entertained the fantasy that a hapless lamb had passed away in its sleep and donated its shanks to the cause of my nourishment as I slurped fall-apart-tender shreds of mutton, smothered in spicy gravy, off angular bones. Moha (the ignorance that causes suffering) was never so delicious, though this was definitely the fieriest dish of the bunch. Next time I’ll splash out for a dish of raita ($3) to ease the burn. 

We’d already exchanged $40 or so for full bellies and a substantial doggie bag when Rasoi’s proprietor sent over a complimentary plate of pan-fried taro cakes embedded with roasted spices and garnished with pink strips of onion steeped in vinegar and tandoori spices, an item he said he was thinking of adding to the list of bar snacks (which already included, of all things, quesadillas). Stuffed as we were, we soldiered through most of the powerfully flavoured griddle cakes until our mouths were thoroughly ablaze.