A taste of Indian theatre (sans Bollywood)

In the heat of the tandoor oven

Theatre restaurants are best avoided being neither experts in good theatre or good food. However, this doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy theatre in restaurants.
I’m not talking about the chef assaulting errant diners with a cleaver. It is about the experience the service or even the clatter and bustle in the fashionable open kitchen.
Bala da Dhaba (56-58 Glen Eira Road, Elsterwick, Vic 3185 +61 9523 8683) brings a different level of theatre. We’re not talking about Bollywood singing and dancing. But from the moment the chef bursts through the shimmering curtain of the tandoor booth there is action.
This is a glass windowed room in the corner of the restaurant featuring two of the ovens. Tonight we set next to the windows, our thighs warmed against the brick wall insulating us from the white-hot coals.
Balas is one of those unusual Indian restaurants in Australia. Most of them have been ponced-up beyond recognition and lack atmosphere. Bala da Dhaba, although it has plain white walls, is an old-fashioned restaurant in the tradition of the common or garden English variety (not the Michelin variety). It is busy most nights of the week testament to its local fan base.
On a Friday night cars circle awaiting their takeaway packages. And punters queue out the door awaiting both tables and takeaways.

Onion baji

Tonight we opt for the Onion Bajis and Chicken Tikka to start. Neither are worth ordering takeaway; the bajis go soggy and the chicken no longer sizzles.
The bhaji isn’t one of those chicken ball sized affairs. It is slithers of onion fried in a spiced batter. A much lighter, delicate and rewarding baji experience.
We see the chicken tikka a few feet from us both enter to tandoor oven. Within a minute or so, it sizzles at our table. This is a spicy variation on tikka and well worth the visit.
Ditto the freshly cooked nan breads.


Sizzling chicken tikka

The theatre of threading giant skewers with variations of chicken, lamb and mushroom and the flipping of hot nans out of the oven hypnotise us.
Our nan arrives a minute in advance of our mains, peas pilua rice, baigan aloo (egg plant and potato) and a rich spicy daal.
Oh, and how could I forget, the prawn vindaloo?
J comments that she thought vindaloos were the kind of dishes that young sporty types eat to show off.
“Oh no,” I reply. “These are nothing like this. It’s a sour and hot Portuguese influenced dish.”
Of course, it is a lot spicier than I expected. It cleared both our sinuses and, as a bonus, our tear ducts. Fortunately, the Elephant beer does help.