Kessari Inde

I’m still getting used to how food from other countries gets French-​ified in France. For example, cheese in sushi — this is a mistake. So, when searching for authentic non-​French food, it’s like going on a bit of a crusade for me. And one type of food that I’m not okay with when bastardized is Indian food. Perhaps it’s all the years being spoiled eating amazing Indian food in San Francisco. Or maybe it’s my Indian bro-​in-​law who somehow succeeds in adding 3 pounds to my bottom line every time I see him. Regardless, I like my Indian food traditional. I’m continuously befuddled in France when my naan shows up before the appetizer. How am I supposed to eat with my hands without bread? (Ohhhh, now I understand… the French don’t eat with their hands — c’est tres gauche.)
Fast forward to today when someone in my apartment building was cooking a curry that smelled so wonderful I didn’t know what to do with myself. Instead of knocking on their door and begging, I decided to head out for some «real» Indian food. Please, please, please, fairy godmother, let me find an authentic restaurant this time! So, after my first bite of food at Kessari Inde, I felt like Krishna had smiled on me. The yummy smell wafted through the door, the art on the walls was traditional, and the cooks were Indian. They even went so far as to have bad Indian wine on the menu. I had the three-​course vegetarian menu of veggie pakoras, palak paneer, rice, and dessert, while my mate had chicken tikka and lamb curry. They clearly cut down on the spice for our palates. But the food itself was great. Excellent mixture of spices, aromatic, even the possibility of eating a rogue cumin seed pod or clove (tres authentic!). Between my broken French and the waiter’s broken English, we were able to piece together a discussion about my recent trip to India. I was informed that his family’s caste often marries my BIL’s family’s caste (both are Punjabi). I’m not sure if he was sidlin’ up with that announcement, but after that we became fast friends. Just to check if the place was on the total up-​and-​up culinarily, at the end of the meal I asked for chai. It’s not uncommon for me to be asked «what kind of chai?» when at an Indian restaurant. That is a dead giveaway for overly bastardized Indian food. Thankfully, though, my new friend smiled and nodded. And, I was presented with a beautiful pot of traditional chai.
So, all in all, a decent eat. It’s not in Paris proper, but if you’re craving real, down-​home Indian food, it’s a good place. The ambiance is not overly fancy, but it’s cute. If you like your food spicy, let them know up front. And they’ll bring you your naan with your main course if you ask. 3.75 stars!
Second (original, I think) location at 4 rue de Milan — 75 009 Paris (
).