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There’s a (very) fiery method to the madness at this year-old South Indian restaurant

Madness of Masala, opened by a pair of software engineers, is inspired by regional specialties from the South Indian states of Telangana and Andhra Pradesh. It also makes the region's best samosas.

The idli karam podi platter at Madness of Masala in Trooper, Pa. A kebab platter from the tandoor oven is in the background.
The idli karam podi platter at Madness of Masala in Trooper, Pa. A kebab platter from the tandoor oven is in the background. Read moreTyger Williams / Staff Photographer

What is the “madness” in Madness of Masala?

It could be the notion of two engineers with full-time jobs and zero experience in the hospitality business deciding to open a restaurant in their spare time. Or it could be a determination to offer a vast repertoire of 150-plus intricately spiced dishes from their childhood homes in South India.

But the real madness here is that they make it work. The kitchen, inspired primarily by regional specialties from the South Indian states of Telangana and Andhra Pradesh, is conjuring some of the most vivid Indian cooking around. And just over a year into Andy Vatsavayi and Raj Saripalli’s big restaurant adventure, the crowds have enthusiastically found their way to this sparsely decorated dining room located in a Ridge Pike strip mall in the middle of Montgomery County.

There are platters of steamy white idli cakes dusted with a trio of spice blends, from coconut-scented “gunpowder” to tamarind-tanged karam podi. There are crispy chicken morsels illuminated with the natural fire-red glow of the famed chiles of Guntur. Fluffy pulao rice bowls are fragrant with coriander and mint. Then there is the bowl of creamy paneer cubes bobbing in a pylon-orange Hyderabadi curry, whose full-throttle heat — the resulting explosion of red Gunturs and green Thai chiles — triggered a ringing sensation in my ears while the rest of my face momentarily went numb.

“We are so used to it, we don’t feel anything,” said Saripalli, who insisted on making me a milder version, despite my protests, as I mopped my brow. It was a well-meaning gesture, but I realized after a few bites that many of these dishes express themselves best when the heat is dialed up to a certain volume. It unlocks a frequency where your ringing tastebuds can sense so many other flavors flowing through: aromatic cardamom, clove, and coriander; sweet backnotes of cashews and almonds; the soothing richness of cream; and the punctuating tang of vinegar for balance.

What makes the cooking at Madness of Masala so compelling is not its fire so much as its subtle complexities — and how its flavors are rooted in nostalgia for a place 8,153 miles away from Trooper, Pa. Every one of the spice blends here is crafted in Hyderabad by either Vatsavayi’s or Saripalli’s mother and shipped stateside, like the karivepaku powder that encrusts crispy nuggets of baby corn in the intensely earthy aroma of sundried curry leaves and toasted cinnamon.

It’s no coincidence the restaurant’s name, reduced to an acronym, reads M.O.M. “These are the flavors you can only get from your own place,” said Vatsavayi, who also notes that another frequently used abbreviation of the restaurant’s name — MaMa — is an expression that means “closest buddy” in their dialect. It reinforces the teamwork necessary for them to pull off this project. Vatsavayi and Saripalli hired a skilled chef in the Odisha-born Soumya Pradhan to execute their recipes.

The service is pleasant but basic, like the restaurant space itself, which is a utilitarian set of gray rooms, save for a green wall lit with an orange neon sign spelling the restaurant’s name. There are a handful of other signs with sayings (“All I Need is Tikka Masala”) hand-painted by Vatsavayi‘s wife, Aparna, who is also a software engineer.

The Indian community has flourished into the region’s largest Asian population, at roughly 120,000, according to census figures, up from just 10,000 in 1980. The majority of the most recent arrivals, drawn by tech and pharma jobs, have come from South India. While a restaurant group like Amma’s does a fine job covering a wide range of cooking from across South India for its locations in Philadelphia and beyond, restaurants in the outer-ring communities have been able to focus on more specific regions.

From the black tamarind-laced curries and flaky Kerala parottas of Mallu Cafe in Northeast Philly to the vegetarian specialties of Karnataka at Malgudi Cafe in Exton — where I savored fantastic khara pongal rice porridge and an intensely dark and frothy coffee imported from Chikmagalur — I’ve been eating my way across multiple South Indian states without ever leaving the Philly region. Check out Manam in Malvern, Downingtown’s Nalan, and the Indian Hut in Exton for dosas and other delights inspired by Tamil Nadu.

Madness of Masala is one of the few focusing on cooking from Telangana and Andhra Pradesh, where the dum biryanis are plentiful, the coconut notes are pronounced, and the Guntur chiles assure, as Vatsavayi says, “the spice is a little turned up.”

Indeed, the increased heat index is evident there in some of the most commonly seen dishes from the Indian canon, from a creamy malai kofta that shimmers with spice to the samosas. These samosas were the best I’ve had in recent memory, their house-made shells extra flaky and their potato fillings both fluffy and flavorful. And if I kept reaching for the peanut-stuffed mirchi bajji long hot peppers deep-fried in cumin-y yellow lentil batter — whose lip-tingling pain morphed into an ethereal spice buzz by pepper number two — that madness, I guess, is on me.

Some of this restaurant’s most distinctive dishes, though, can be relatively mild. Its signature “majestic” preparation is a creamy orange onion gravy perfect for chicken, shrimp, or crispy cauliflower (gobi majestic!); it hovers at a low black pepper hum while the cardamom, fenugreek, and bay leaf step forward.

The intensely earthy, citrusy notes of crushed curry leaves are the primary focus of the karivepaku powder that Vatsavayi’s mom makes, which is also tasty with shrimp or paneer. The sorrel leaf tang of green gongura gravy is my choice for goat. And an eggplant dish called bagara baingan showcases a sauce enriched with peanuts and sesame seeds.

The restaurant’s weekend buffets are an impressive deal for $19.99 — they draw crowds with a rotating list of 20 or more off-menu dishes, from piri-piri-spiced paneer to Andhra chicken pakora and goat-and-lentil dalcha stew — but I wouldn’t recommend it for anyone averse to long lines.

Plus, few of those dishes were more interesting than the bounty of singular specialties on the restaurant’s a la carte menu, which is almost entirely under $18 for an entree. Anything marked with the “MaMa’s Special” tag is worth ordering, including a complex chicken dish whose tomato gravy is enriched with coconut, clove, and poppy seeds. MaMa’s special chile lamb is powered by cumin and red chiles, while MaMa’s special methi paneer swathes the cheese cubes in a blend of fenugreek leaves and green chiles that are glossed with buttery ghee.

Biryanis and other rice dishes are a specialty of Hyderabad, and there are many worthy varieties here (try the special raju gari version, which hides a fragrant chicken stew beneath the rice). I was also especially impressed by the tandoor offerings. The flatbreads are memorably supple, including an onion-stuffed kulcha that was a standout. And Madness of Masala’s skewered meats are outstanding: The kebab platter was notable, highlighted by a juicy hariyali chicken marinated in a minted green chile paste.

Another highlight from the tandoor is the whole pomfret. The silver-skinned exterior of this diamond-shaped fish is blistered from the heat of that vertical oven, which caramelizes the fish masala marinade of turmeric, ginger, cumin, and a touch of ground urad (black gram) dal for extra crust.

There are creamy yogurt lassi drinks (try the sour buttermilk spiked with masala) and sparkling Limca sodas to wash it all down. Then there are a series of syrup-soaked desserts with enough sugary intensity to counter the entire meal’s worth of heat. One dessert, double ka meetha, brought slices of deep-fried bread glazed in a saffron-cardamom condensed milk sauce dusted with nuts. It was essentially the ultimate Hyderabadi bread pudding. The only madness at that moment would be not to finish the whole thing.


Madness of Masala

2851 Ridge Pike, Trooper, Pa. 19403, 484-235-8003; madnessofmasala.com

Open Tuesday through Thursday, 11:30 a.m.-3 p.m.; 5-10 p.m.; Friday, until 10:30 p.m.; Saturday, 11:30 a.m.-10:30 p.m.; Sunday, 11:30 a.m.-10 p.m. Closed Monday.

Wheelchair accessible.

BYOB: Sour beers, crisp lagers, and off-dry white wines are the best options.

Menu Highlights: Gobi majestic (chicken also recommended); idli karam podi; Guntur chicken; MaMa’s Specials (chicken, chile lamb, metthi paneer); paneer in Hyderabadi red curry (spicy!); karivepaku baby corn; gongura goat; samosa; kebab platter; whole pomfret; biryani and pulao; double ka meetha.