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Vegetable curry (Photo by Sarah Walor)
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Chicken Tandoori (Photo by Sarah Walor)
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Pakoras (Photo by Sarah Walor)
If, on hearing the name Tulsi, the image that leaps to mind is that of a charismatic and outspoken congresswoman who lately is stoking Democratic dreams of Obama redux, then you need, one, to take a break from presidential politics two-plus years out, and two, to acquaint yourself with a captivating restaurant of that same name that opened in September on a newly busy stretch of West Cary Street.
Tulsi is the Hindi word for basil, an herb held to be sacred on the subcontinent, and there is, indeed, something of the sacramental about the restaurant, a retreat of a space that slowly but surely works its charms on you, from the cathedral ceilings that invite contemplation to the soothing tones of sage and sunset orange to the uncommon kindness, warmth and patience of its staff. If only to experience this stillness and serenity, Tulsi would be worth a visit, but the cooking is its own form of transport, with even a simple dinner becoming an occasion to partake in a sensual feast of color, fragrance, spice and texture.
In a city known more for pimento cheese than pappadums and pakoras, Richmond has become something of a home, recently, for quality Indian cooking, with the remarkable Lehja, and, for a too-brief time, Curry Craft enlivening an increasingly cosmopolitan food scene. Tulsi belongs in that conversation, standing out not, like Lehja, for any particular innovation — the menu is largely north Indian, with only the occasional excursion to other regions, like Kerala to the southwest — but for what you might call stubbornness of conviction: an unapologetic refusal to dumb down its flavors in an attempt to make nice with a timid Western audience.
Tulsi Chef Rinku Singh (Photo by Sarah Walor)
Rinku Singh, the chef and, with Ravi Dahiya, co-owner, can indisputably bring the heat — the servers will ask you to give them a number between one, mild, and five, “Indian hot,” and let me assure the chili-heads out there that four holds nothing back — but his priority is to mine the vast and sprawling region between spiced and spicy. The dishes are all the more rewarding for it. This is complex, nuanced cooking, and it invites, between bites and moans, its own contemplation. Is it cardamom that gives the carrot halwa, a warm (and warming) bread pudding, its subtle allure? Is that fenugreek in the scallop korma, a dish that never shouts to make its point but instead speaks with a quiet, insistent authority? Is it the sweetness of tomato that keeps you coming back for more of the eggplant masala in spite of the small fire smoldering in your mouth?
Resist, if you can, the lure of the selections that arrive sizzling from the tandoor and trailing great clouds of steam; it’s the curries you want — rich and zesty and distinguished as much by their tight weave of spices as by their surprisingly not-overdone meats and fishes. The vegetable curries are just as good, and — a nice touch — you can order them by the half-portion, making it easy to sample a variety of tastes at once and, in this way, experience more of the tonal range of this impressive newcomer.
4 out of 5 stars
3131 W. Cary St.
804-353-3300
Hours: Lunch 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. daily. Dinner Monday to Friday: 5 to 10 p.m.; Saturday to Sunday: 3 to 10 p.m.
Prices: Lunch $2 to $15. Dinner $2 to $25.
Handicapped-accessible
