Austur - Indiafjelagid

There is no way you could miss Austur-Indía félagið––an intricately carved antique timber door from South India propped up on teeny stone pillar stubs, burnished by time, stands out amidst its contemporary neighbors. The front door yawns open to a dark vestibule, nudging guests into the warm glow of the restaurant itself. A subtle nod to the vernaculars of Indian architecture persists.

A 100 year old Parsi bungalow in Mumbai, scheduled for dynamite, was carefully stripped, shipped and then resurrected all the way here in Reykjavík. Gleaming teak pillars, wooden coffered ceilings, antique bronze sculptures and contemporary Indian art adorn the walls. The genial service furthers the ‘I’m-here-for-a-dinner-party’ vibe.

Clichéd Indian restaurants peddling British-style curry are unfortunately a dime a dozen. Thankfully, Austurindia, despite its tongue-in-cheek name (it means East India Company in Icelandic) focuses on regional Indian cuisine.

The absence of generic dishes, condiments and accompaniments is proof of welcome changes. The word curry barely makes an appearance. When it does, it rightly refers to curry leaves and the gravy-based dishes uses the right taxonomy of gassi, sabzi etc. This attention to detail extends to the food as well. Although described as a chutney, the Kannadiga style tomato gojju served with the subz galouti steals the show. Tomatoes are cooked to a sprightly brightness with garlic-mustard seed-curry leaf, their acidity balances the rich vegetable patties, but also makes one long for a whole bowl of just the gojju.

With fresh ground masalas, sparingly used whole spices and the best of Icelandic produce, each dish is singular proof of a kitchen well versed in diverse regional cooking. The scallop cafreal is redolent with the herby sparkle of fresh coriander and mint; the kori gassi honors its Mangalorean roots with its unabashed use of hing, dried red chilies and toasted coriander. The Keralan dishes are unapologetically Keralan. Pollichathu, with salmon standing in for the traditional pearl fish is chock-full of caramelized shallots and garlic and arrives like an early Christmas gift— fillets of fish with that tomato based marinade, cooked in a banana leaf parcel, to be opened at the table. Tamarind evokes its fruity acidity with undertones of caramel in the Kottayam fish curry, at once fiery, yet tempered when eaten with plain steamed rice.

Breads too go beyond generic naan. The paneer kulcha is especially satisfying. You’d would be well advised to dine family style, sharing multiple dishes alongside the rotis and kulchas and finishing with a simple dal tadka, rice and pickles. Their focus on regionality, rather than playing to the gallery with de rigueur staples, is why they make a sprightly comeback on the Guide.

Published, October 2019.