CHEAP EATS

Curry? Yes. Hurry? No.

Curry in a Hurry is in North Little Rock.
Curry in a Hurry is in North Little Rock.

— From the cradle of civilization to the 21st century, restaurants have promised speedy delivery of food and have opened under names to match. Babylon 5 Minutes. Euphrates No Waiting. Go Fast in the Dessert.

In November, Sahil Hameerani, a native of Andhra Pradesh in India, opened his second central Arkansas business, Curry in a Hurry on Pike Avenue in North Little Rock. (His first was Unique Threading Salon in Little Rock’s Pleasant Ridge Town Center.)

The eatery’s name makes two promises. First, Indian food. The menu has several Basmati rice plates, kebabs, regular and garlic naan (a flat bread toasted over an open flame) and about two dozen curries and masalas, from anda (egg) and daal (lentils) to chicken and fish.

Curry in a Hurry also, of course, pledges to serve the food up fast for people either squeezing a lunch run into their half-hour break or perhaps picking up supper on the way home. This is reinforced by what must be the busiest sign in all North Little Rock. Inside are little printouts of iPhone MMS screen shots with “Text ‘CURRY’ to 678-30-HURRY.”

So when, on a recent lunch visit, Hameerani asked for forgiveness after some delay — “Everything is being cooked really fresh, so it will be late, about 15 or 20 minutes” — the breach bothered me much more than the actual wait.

He said that the lunch specials ($7) were really the most popular choice. They are small servings of two (of three) kinds of curry, a few deep-fried chickpea-batter dumplings called pakora, rice, and roti (a thin bread similar to a tortilla). They are served on a partitioned, stainless-steel food tray, which gives the effect of making the icecream-scooped portions smaller still. The curries — the vegetable curry especially — don’t disappoint, but the lunch plate packs so little food it’s unsatisfying.

Is the restaurant prepared to serve only the lunch special “in a hurry?”

Curry in a Hurry is still on that steep learning curve for all new restaurants, but the food is authentic and well-presented.

Father Salim Hamirani (he spells it differently), who cooks, is a master with chickpeas. Now, I recognize that chickpea mastery is not enough in central Arkansas to recommend a place, but the Channa Masala ($8) is a sumptuous melange of starchy chickpea grit with piquant curry, coriander, chili and other spices. A must-try.

The Chicken 65 ($4.95) is a small plate of boneless chicken marinated overnight so that even the inside is seasoned, then left unbattered and deep fried with chili peppers and whole curry leaves. Hameerani insists it’s very popular, perhaps because red food dye is used to turn the flesh a shade of red seen chiefly in animated depictions of hell.

The Chicken Biryani ($11) is a large plate of tender chicken and colored Basmati rice, but the charm of this dish is its separation from a small crock of thin yogurt seasoned with onion, cumin and fresh cilantro leaves. It’s called raita.

The most surprising chicken dish is the Boti Kebab ($6), a small plate of skewered and grilled chicken breast treated with fresh Indian spices. Alongside with some of the spicier masalas, this one stands out for its citric, palate-cleansing tartness. It’s small enough to be an appetizer but, with naan, could be an excellent meal in itself.

The goat meat in the Mutton Boti Masala ($13) was, if goat can ever be, almost under-whelming. The masala was indeed spicy — in fact, all the masalas are downright hot, and no one asks if you’d like it milder — but next time I may try the Bheja Masala ($12): Goat brains.

I’ll think on it.

The interior is charming if rusticated. Those used to traveling may be reminded of cafes in, say, India. American restaurants, even “dives,” typically look better-kept. Having said that, American restaurants don’t typically offer private spaces for parties of two, four or six, who can dine in front of a large flat-screen television in a hovel closed off from the dining room by a curtain. “Champagne rooms,” they’re called in upscale clubs.

Curry in a Hurry has two.

Curry in a Hurry does not have champagne.

Curry in a Hurry has basil juice ($2), a phosphorescent semi-sweet drink.

Floating in the glass are small basil seeds, themselves suspended in a springy orb of placental squish. Like boba tea, these BBs fly up the straw and into the mouth rat-a-tat-tat, so that the sweet-herb flavor of the drink is accented by an unusual tactile sensation. It’s palpable.

Along with soda, chai tea and coffee, the restaurant offers the increasingly familiar mango lassi ($2), which, here, is just OK. It’s unsweetened, and the cream added to the mango slurry is perhaps too rich for the mix.

In time, Curry in a Hurry may develop a following among basil drink fanatics or civilized zombies who consume goat brains in place of the human ones. For now it’s a serviceable Indian food stop along Pike Avenue, a fair distance away from the other Indian food restaurant in North Little Rock or any of the more established ones in the capital city.

If you’re in a hurry, though, take their suggestion: “Text ‘CURRY’ to 678-30-HURRY.”

Curry in a Hurry

Address: 1800 Pike Ave., North Little Rock Hours: 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Tuesday-Sunday Cuisine: Indian Credit cards: AE, D, MC, V Alcoholic beverages: No Reservations: No Wheelchair accessible: Yes Carryout: Yes (501) 753-4400

Weekend, Pages 31 on 01/12/2012

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