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Reprinted from the Georgia Straight, Best Eating
By angela murrills
Publish Date: 16-Sep-2004
I Did It My Way
Jolly Kumar Is So Proud Of His New Northern IndiaInspired Bistro, He Put His Name To It
The second-most-frequent question, right after "Do you pay for your meals?" (answer: yes) is "How do you hear about new restaurants?" Answer: It depends. If it's somewhere with money behind it, a publicist sends out a fancy media kit. Sometimes a restaurateur simply rings you up: who, where, not necessarily why, and what the spot is all about. Often, it's a phone tip--to be viewed warily, in case it's the owner's maître d' or brother-in-law. No joking. It happens. When the tip is from someone you know, the trust factor is high. But what gets me to hotfoot it to a restaurant is a cellphone call from right outside saying, "You have to try this place." You know who you are, thanks.
Restaurateurs don't often attach their names to restaurants. I can only think of a half-dozen locally and Irv's Place (if it still exists) in Montreal; Place Irv's after the language police got their hands on it. Either way, using your name is saying, rather proudly, this is my place, my approach, my threshold you're crossing, and my hospitality you're about to enjoy.
When you walk in the door at Jolly's Bistro, owner Jolly Kumar makes you feel welcome. It's as simple as that, and this isn't a talent you learn, it's innate. He may greet you as he carries his Indian plates to customers, but mostly he'll say hello from behind the bar where he's not just pouring beers but also chopping, mixing, cooking, and doing the dishes. His kitchen is genuinely "open", in the way La Régalade's is, which means you don't just see the final photo-op slap of paint, you watch the foundations going in. Kumar has an interesting background. New Delhiborn, he trained in hotel management in Austria, worked in European-style restaurants there and on a cruise ship, came to Canada seven years ago, saved up, and, about a year ago, achieved his dream of opening his own place.
Configured into a tiny patio and a long L with bar seats and a handful of tables, Jolly's Bistro is full of homey touches. Last time we were there, folks at the bar were leafing through a big volume on maharajahs and motorcars photographed by a prince Kumar knew in India. (The evocative photos of people and places that hang on the saffron-coloured walls are from the same prince's family collection.) He mixes the two masalas that form the basis for all his dishes; they're his mom's recipes, the spices ground fresh every morning. The plates themselves, he later says in a phone interview, are like those you'd find in dhabas ("street cafés"): nothing complicated, all deliberately simple so he can handle it solo, predominantly Northern Indian because that's where he's from but with his European experience encouraging a little tweaking along the way.
The butter chicken's luxurious creaminess comes from its overnight bath in yogurt. (Admittedly, there's a little half-and-half in there, too.) Add sweet-sharp tomatoes, which turns it a dawn-pink, and the quiet glow of the cardamom and cloves in the spicing and you have a dish that's as delicate and luxe as cashmere. Lamb curry is beautifully tender, the heat doing that Doppler-effect thing where it intensifies and changes in pitch the closer it gets. "Indian tapas" are larger than they sound, the boneless tandoori chicken a small meal of moist spicy pieces around a mound of salad. I'm less enthusiastic about the vegetarian spring roll filled with potatoes and peas, actually one large roll baked and then sliced. Vegetarians have plenty to choose from: Yogi chick-pea masala, New Delhi dahl, spinach curry, and the truly terrific akasha aloo gobi, its chunks of cauliflower and paneer concealed in a thick mass of deeply flavoured spinach. All main dishes ($6.75 to $10) come with a pappadam, basmati rice, lots of green salad drizzled with mango-based dressing, and naan bread made right before your eyes. Order chai, and the brown sugar--"natural, as the farmer made it"--is shaved from a nine-kilo block the size of a footstool. Increasingly, people ask for it in their coffee too or buy shavings for home consumption. What else? Oh yes, biryani roti wraps and, coming soon, the $3.99 dahl-and-rice lunch, and halvah and kheer desserts. Meanwhile, all you students living on peanuts: a nightly dinner with glass of beer is $10.
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