Bindi is the Gayborhood’s hippest spot to nibble paratha. It's ripe with accolades; Philadelphia Magazine’s 2008 Best of Philly for Indian cuisine, and head chef/co-owner Marcie Turney’s nod as a semifinalist in the James Beard Foundation's Best Mid-Atlantic Chef. The name Bindi references the red powder dot on an Indian woman’s forehead celebrating strength and femininity. But the name's Indian Subcontinent roots aren't reflected by the restaurant's sleek atmosphere, sacrificing authenticity for the feel a full-fledged hot spot.

There's soft Indian chant music and a dimly lit single-room dining area prime for romance, if you can shut out the chatter of alcohol-fueled young professionals that flock there en masse. Bindi capitalizes on the need to booze it up with “modern byob,” demonstrated by a table of spring-dress clad twenty-somethings pouring half a bottle of rum into a $12 pitcher of Mango Sharbat.

Order an Indian street-style cocktail like nimbu pani (pomegranate-ginger lemonade) or mango sharbat (mango puree, lime, green cardamon) and spike it with rum, vodka or tequila. Turney and co-owner Valerie Safran take the byob notion seriously, even including it in their web address: Bindibyob.com.

For a vegetarian, particularly an ethical vegetarian, few cultural lineages embody the practice of animal-free eating like Indian cuisine. Hinduism, which accounts for 80% of India's religious population, originated from ancient Vedic beliefs. The sacred texts, known as the Vedas, preach ahimsa, a non-harming, non-violent existence. Jainism likewise strives for ahimsa, but places non-violence as the highest religious duty. Jains practice the most radical form of religious diet in India, some even wearing anti-viral masks to avoid killing microbes by inhaling them.

Buddhism, which developed in India around the same time as Jainism during the sixth century BCE, is less clear about meatless practices. Buddha was not vegetarian, but taught against killing animals. Today, the Buddhist position on vegetarianism varies by sect. The common generalization is the Mahayanist tradition practices vegetarianism, while Theravadins do not.

Given the significance of vegetarian fare in India's heritage, there isn't an overwhelming amount of meatless choices on Bindi's menu. But the restaurant seems to draw the herbivores, as a server explained, “during dinner rush, I'd say usually half the tables have at least one vegetarian.”

Bindi's ever changing menu features, on average, two to three vegetarian entrees (out of approximately nine offerings). Add in meatless appetizers, sides and breads, and a veg'head doesn't have to leave hungry - so long as his or her pockets can bear it. At upwards of twenty dollars for a vegetable entree, Bindi charges double the price of a standard Indian eatery, but trendiness has its cost.

There is, however, substance beneath the swank. Both Safran and Executive Chef George Sabatino informed me that the menu is largely seasonal and produce is sourced locally as often as possible. The bearded, sleeve-tattooed Sabatino has visited some of the nearby farms they patronize like Green Meadow and Pleasant Valley.

The inclusion of local ingredients demands a twist on traditional fare, with results like the roasted parsnip-potato samosas. The crisp, flakey pastries are akin to the standard, but the parsnips give a hearty sweetness to the tender potato filling.

Bindi's generous steak of sindhi-style eggplant is stacked on a baked round of sooji (Indian semolina) in a pond of tomato curry that meets the tongue with more tang than fire. This timidity of heat leaves the tomato flavor predominant — grate some Parmesan on it and call it Italian.

The modern meets traditional experimentations continue with sweet goat cheese paratha cooked with ample amounts of ghee and served with a local honey raita (yoghurt sauce). The deep fried bread and sweet raita are the Indian equivalent of funnel cake. It was as though dessert came early.

Turney's preference for North India's style of cuisine is apparent. In South India heat is a must, rice is a fundamental element, and vegetarian dishes are prevalent. The northern counterpart stays on the milder side with a preference for intriguing breads and a heavy use of dairy.

Of the vegetarian entrée options, the vegetable thali is an Indian staple and a good starting point for uncertain diners. It's a round metal serving platter of sensory explosion of bright oranges and deep greens; a wafting aroma of cumin and turmeric; the dry bite of chickpeas; gooey spinach purée concealing chunks of creamy homemade Indian cheese (paneer); the mealy texture of paratha; the cool cucumber-mint raita, and spicy cauliflower giving much needed fire. Thali is an experiential dish deserving to be shared and discussed.

The most exotic offering, at least judging by name, is the vegetable goozoo. This (Dr.) Seussian-sounding dish has the same listless red curry used in the sindhi eggplant. The assortment of seasonal vegetables was nearly lost in a heavy dose of sauce, save for massive slices of yellow squash and green zucchini.

The main courses may not have deserved their price tag, but dessert mended all wrongs. The cardamom cake's custard-like base of Indian spiced chocolate pot de crème gave way to aromatic hints of soothing, citrusy cardamom, standing up to the more prominent flavor of a salted caramel drizzle. It was only superseded by the Bombay chai crème brulée. From first crack of the caramelized crust, the chai spice took the already decadent notion of crème brulee to new heights. A thick, bittersweet chocolate ganache added an indulgent garnish to this wet dream for a boundless sweet tooth.

Some aficionados hailed Bindi as the missing piece to Philadelphia's midrange international scene, but that might be a stretch. The cuisine is inspired, but their impressive collection of the Subcontinent's spices might be too much temptation in the kitchen. Simplicity is sometimes abandoned and a muddling of flavors all to common. Bindi is worth a visit for vegetarians, but non-veg’heads might get more for their dollar from critically praised dishes like the chicken tikka, or the lamb chops rogan josh.

Trevor Dye is a freelance journalist covering all things thrifty, diy, green, and vegetarian. He resides in West Philly and moonlights as a yoga teacher. His work has appeared on Brokelyn.com.

Article from restaurant website, "Veg' Head" photograph from dustinj, via Flickr (Creative Commons), "Philly" photograph from camardella, via Flickr (Creative Commons).