Kebab Factory
The Kirkland Cafe, located on the Cambridge–Somerville border was a small club where many bands, including a few of my own, performed during the 1990s. Those stories, however, are best recounted elsewhere. More relevant to our discussion was the day a new Indian restaurant, The Kebab Factory, appeared directly across the street from the Kirkland.
Initially, I was puzzled by the choice of this location. The upscale Dali was right next to the Kirkland, but otherwise this neighborhood was hardly a dinner destination. Although right in the midst of several well-known squares (Harvard, Central, Porter, Inman, Union), it was not really considered part of any of them. Crowds that populated Harvard and Central were absent here. Much of the surrounding area was a collection of triple-deckers and rental properties. And inexpensive take-out businesses such as Thai Hut and Beacon Street Pizza.
But… It appears that lower density of sit-down restaurants and the diverse population nearby might have been advantageous. It allowed the restaurant to be casually discovered without a lot of immediate competition. Parking, while challenging at times, was far less of a struggle than in the surrounding squares. (However, if you live three blocks away, did parking really matter?) Whatever the reason, a few decades later the Kebab Factory still stands while the majority of their contemporaries in Central Square have been closed for years.
food fit for a prince or a nizam?
The early to mid 1990s brought a subtle evolution to several Indian restaurants around the Greater Boston area. A few such as New Mother India in Waltham revitalized their menu with several enriched versions of their dishes. Allston’s Rangoli became something of a forerunner as they introduced dosas and dishes from overlooked regions of India. The Kebab Factory managed to do both, and in many ways, better.
Inexplicably, for quite some time I kind of avoided them. Possibly I didn’t like the word “factory” in the name; no overt Indian catch phrase to draw me in. Maybe their modern logo was a turn-off. Regardless, I waited until after a friend gave them high marks before I dropped my misgivings and gave them a try.
And Wow! I certainly did not know what I had been missing. (Is there an echo in here?) Similar to Rangoli, they were serving an expanded menu which presented several new dishes that I had not seen offered by any of the Central Square restaurants.
At the same time, many of my go-to restaurants were starting to seem a bit “pedestrian” to me. Was I starting to tire of the kormas, pasandas even the vindaloos? No, not really. But as those restaurants were becoming predictable, maybe even a bit boring, I discovered that even “ordinary” curries from the Kebab Factory’s menu were sublime.
A few years later during the Indian restaurant survey, I made the following comment almost as a way of introducing the restaurant:
“The Kebab Factory is one of my favorite restaurants in the Boston area. Specializing in kebabs, which they do very very well, they also bring several lesser known dishes to the table. The focus is more on Northern Indian cuisine here hearty, and rich. They take the best attributes of standard curries and turn it up a notch with an amazing results. Without a doubt, the best Tandoor cooking in the Boston area. This is one of the few restaurants where the buffet is as good as a sit-down meal. I can’t wait to go back!”
The seating area of the restaurant was smaller than most. Yet among the tables they squeezed a bar to one side and put their tandoor on display; stationed behind a window at the back of the dining area. A bit of a show while you eat? Why not. It’s a nice touch given their name.
To answer the question I posed above, not only do I think the Kebab Factory serves food fit for a prince or a nizam, their dishes would also please discriminating nawabs or maharajas as well.
hidden location — hidden story
As noted, the Kebab Factory is hardly located in a well-traveled area when matched against the famous Squares of Cambridge and Somerville. Fittingly, as I attempted to research their origins, I only came up with the sparsest of background information about the restaurant’s roots.
Online searches of newspapers returned hardly any advertising or reviews although my search was not exhaustive. I set my scope from 1990 up until the end of the availability of text based searches for several publications. I managed to find two reviews from the Boston Phoenix dating from the early 2000s. Boston’s Hidden Restaurants penned an online review in the early 2010s.
I was worried that was going to be all I would find. This called for a visit to the Somerville library, town hall or even the restaurant itself. Guess which one I chose?
Indeed it was the latter option that began to loosen a few stones. One Sunday afternoon I went by the restaurant and noticed a poster-sized reproduction of a review hanging outside the front door. Writer Steve Brault gave the restaurant a solidly good review for the Boston Globe. Unfortunately for me, he did not offer any insight into the back story.
Even so, there were still a few tidbits to be had. For the reproduction, the restaurant had added their logo, contact info and hours right below photos that I think ran with the review. Curiously, under the Kebab Factory information was an additional logo for Singh’s Cafe, a different restaurant located several miles away in the suburb of Wellesly, Mass. It sort of suggested a connection between the two.
Seeing the Singh’s Cafe logo sparked a memory of a different restaurant named House of Kebab, in Ball Square (yet another Somerville square). I had eaten there once and recalled hearing that there was some connection to the Kebab Factory. A bit more digging uncovered a review of the House of Kebab that also ran in the Boston Globe, this time from around 2016. And here, writer Sheryl Julian identified the Kebab Factory owners for us! “The restaurant’s former life as Yak & Yeti offered a mixed Nepalese and Indian menu, says co-owner Jagdish Singh, who also co-owns the Kebab Factory in Somerville with his friend Tarsem Singh.”1
On a roll, I found an article, from Harvard University’s Crimson newspaper, that explained the mystery of the Singh’s Cafe logo in the poster. Apparently, Harpreet Singh, began working for the Kebab Factory in 2002 before buying Singh’s Dhaba in Central Square Cambridge. He later opened Singh’s Cafe in Wellesley, Mass., and Bapu G’s in Foxborough, Mass.2
Are you following? Am I following? And are all the Singhs in this story related? I am not sure we need to burrow into this particular rabbit hole.
Back to the mother ship, it seems like the Kebab Factory did not need extensive media coverage or hype to succeed. Their placing in Cambridge Chronicle’s Reader’s Choice Polls over several years speaks to an enthusiastic and supportive clientele. The restaurant was often full with a line of people waiting outside. And, it bears repeating, unlike so many restaurants in trendier locations, they are still around!
a celebration of gold for the royalty
The Kebab Factory’s menu offered many familiar dishes under the heading Factory Regulars. These could be ordered with your choice of meat or vegetables. I have remained a bit amused by the way the menu dresses up the names of those dishes by adding the article the before the dish family name: The Saag, The Vindaloo, and so forth. By the way, I don’t remember ordering The Vindaloo at Kebab Factory, one of the few restaurants where I skipped my customary assessment.
While I must have considered trying The Vindaloo, I was more eager to try their regional offerings, especially ones unknown to me. Kundan Kaliya, Gosht Banjara, and Hyderabadi Mirch aur Baingan Ka Salan all attracted my interest. I’m sure I ordered the first, maybe the second, but definitely not the last. Baingan (eggplant) was a taste I was yet to acquire.
One Sunday I introduced my brothers to their buffet. Everything was very good, but one dish in particular stood out. The name? Even if there was a label on the table, it is lost to time. At first I found it quite similar to a Kashmiri dish I had made from The Great Curries of India. However, looking at their current menu, it seems more likely that the dish I remember was Chicken Lahori Kofta. This dish consisted of small koftas swimming in uniquely spiced tomato gravy. The Indian version of pasta sauce with meatballs? Perhaps. It was fabulous with rice and so good that I could hardly stop eating it.
As the restaurant’s name implies, the Kebab Factory is passionate about their kebabs. And it’s more than just the standard Seekh and Boti kebabs. Their menu lists a wide variety including: Kali Mirch ke Tikkey and Chapli Kebabs (both of which also appeared on JMP’s menu) along with many others which I never found on other menus. Pudina Tangdi Kebab, Barrah Baluchi and Shaan E Murgh were all completely new discoveries. But while I remember seeing Shikampuri Kebabs in a few of my cookbooks, I don’t think I had ever tried making them.
The variety was not limited to main dishes and kebabs though, their breads also included a few unique selections. During one visit, I spotted Sheermal on the menu. It was described it as: “a rare Indian bread from Mehoboobadad made from milk, clarified butter and flour with the lightest touch of saffron.” Wow! I knew I needed to try this. Since this visit was in the midst of the Indian Restaurant Survey, my immediate impressions were saved. “…incredibly rich Sheermal which absolutely melted in your mouth. This one is a five.” At that time I didn’t note that it was also a bit sweet, atypical for many flat breads. I made sure to order Sheermal on a subsequent visit.
I also tried a Chickoo Shake which was likewise a completely new experience for me. Finally, although not that hard to find elsewhere, I ordered a Kulfi for desert and commented: “The richest, creamiest kulfi I’ve had.”
a question for myself
Although I have included the Kebab Factory as one of my favorite restaurants, comparatively speaking I did not eat there very often. And I don’t know that I have a good answer for why. While it is not exactly close to me, it is only one relatively quick bus ride. More than once I chose the restaurant for my birthday dinner celebration, or for a gathering with my brothers, but they never seemed to become an everyday type of restaurant. Maybe I didn’t want to take the chance of being disappointed by changes that inevitably happen over time. I would much rather remember the superb dinners, forever etched in my mind.