This Washington Curry House Locals Swear Matches The Coast’s Finest
Seattle’s University District has no shortage of quick bites, but Taste of India on Roosevelt Way NE stands apart with a kind of steady warmth that keeps people coming back for years.
The air outside already hints at what’s waiting inside: ginger, cardamom, garlic, and something richer that clings to the cold. Inside, servers move with easy rhythm, trays balancing bowls of fragrant masala and stacks of soft naan that tear like clouds.
Chai arrives steaming, poured with quiet care, rounding out every visit like a small ceremony. It’s a place that asks for nothing more than your hunger and gives back comfort, color, and calm in return. In a busy district, Taste of India remains its most reliable heartbeat.
5517 Roosevelt Way NE Storefront And Sign
The sign catches the light even on Seattle’s gloomiest days, a steady neon glow that slices through drizzle like a small act of defiance. You can spot it from the crosswalk, the promise of spice pulling you closer.
Inside, saffron walls hum with warmth, and you hear the rhythm of plates and conversation long before your order lands.
That first inhale of cardamom and clove feels like crossing a border. It’s not just a storefront; it’s a soft landing after the rain.
Chicken Tikka Masala In A Creamy Tomato Base
The sauce here deserves its own applause: silky, deeply orange, layered with butter, tomato, and slow-simmered spice. The chicken arrives perfectly charred at the edges, tender through the middle, every bite soaking up that velvety masala.
It’s balanced, no single note overpowers the others. Even the heat feels polite, a gentle warmth that lingers.
Locals know better than to share this one. Order your own bowl, because once you dip a piece of naan, there’s no going back.
Garlic Naan And Spinach Naan From The Tandoor
When the basket lands, steam curls up in a cloud of butter and roasted garlic. The naan is blistered in all the right spots, brushed until glossy, impossible to resist.
Then comes the green one, spinach folded into soft, elastic dough, earthy and fragrant. It’s a quieter star, but maybe even better.
I still remember tearing off a piece and burning my fingertips, too impatient to wait. That’s when you know it’s real comfort food, discipline disappears.
Mango And Coconut Curries Listed Among Favorites
The air seems to sweeten when these two curries leave the kitchen, mango bright and tropical, coconut creamy with just a whisper of heat. Their colors alone are a mood lift on a gray Seattle day.
Each sauce is cooked until the flavors blur together like watercolor. The mango leans fruity and lush; the coconut feels like comfort.
Regulars often pair one with basmati rice and the other with naan, alternating spoonfuls like a slow conversation between sunshine and warmth.
Rogan Josh And Lamb Vindaloo For Spice Seekers
This is where the heat lives. Rogan josh smolders in its brick-red sauce, cardamom and clove tugging at the nose before you even taste it. The lamb vindaloo, though, is bolder, sharp, vinegary, with peppers that make you sweat in the best way.
Both dishes trace back to northern India, and here they keep their roots intact. Nothing feels watered down for comfort.
If you’re not a spice veteran, start mild and work your way up. Pride burns brighter than regret.
Chana Masala And Paneer Options For Vegetarians
The chana masala hits the table bubbling, chickpeas coated in a spiced gravy that’s equal parts tangy and earthy. Beside it, cubes of paneer sit in a gentle tomato cream, tasting richer with every bite.
You don’t miss meat here; the texture and depth do all the talking. The aroma alone feels like home.
I used to think vegetarian curries were an afterthought, but this place proved me wrong. They’re proof that warmth and satisfaction aren’t about what’s missing.
All Day Hours Posted Seven Days A Week
Consistency might be this restaurant’s secret ingredient. Morning or night, the lights are on, and the aroma of toasted cumin drifts through the doorway. There’s comfort in knowing it’s always there, no complicated hours, no midweek closures.
The kitchen hums with rhythm, pots clattering, orders moving without rush. It’s steady, like a well-rehearsed melody.
When the craving for curry hits, which it inevitably will, you never need to check the clock first. That reliability is its own kind of hospitality.
Fast Service And Steady University District Crowds
The pace inside matches the neighborhood’s heartbeat. Students, professors, and longtime locals flow in and out, the staff somehow managing smiles and speed at once.
Orders land on tables before conversations hit their stride. It’s part of what makes the place hum; a quick turnover without ever feeling rushed. You eat well, you move on, someone else slides into your seat.
Efficiency like this isn’t sterile; it’s warm, practiced, human. It’s how community restaurants keep their rhythm alive.
Online Ordering For Takeout And Catering
In a city where rain rules the week, staying home doesn’t mean skipping your curry. Their online setup is seamless, clear, and fast, you scroll, click, and wait for the unmistakable aroma to fill your car.
The packaging holds up beautifully, even with saucy dishes that usually defy travel. Garlic naan stays soft, not soggy.
I’ve ordered on nights when deadlines stacked too high to leave the house. That first bite, eaten over my laptop, still tasted like a small victory.
Roomy Tables For Groups And Families
There’s an ease to dining here with company, the kind that only comes from tables that actually fit everyone. No elbows clashing, no tight corners. Just conversation flowing over plates that keep refilling with naan and basmati.
Families, students, and co-workers settle in without hurry, the atmosphere calm but alive. The hum of shared meals feels like part of the décor.
For gatherings that balance comfort and flavor, this spot hits the sweet spot: big enough for laughter, intimate enough for warmth.
Warm Chai To Finish A Rainy Seattle Night
Few endings feel as right as a cup of steaming chai after curry. The spice mix leans heavy on cardamom and clove, sweetened just enough to soothe. Steam curls up like fog, carrying warmth to the fingertips.
Outside, the rain taps quietly against the window while inside, cups clink and chatter softens.
It’s a ritual more than a beverage, that slow sip before heading back into the drizzle, reminded that simple comforts can turn an ordinary meal into a memory.