Mantra Masala

Chefs don't like to hear this, but it's a given that the vast majority of restaurant food is not conducive to your (or mine or our or anybody's) health. And the better the food is -- the more it luxuriates languidly on tongue and palate -- the more likely the presence of cream and butter and all of that other stuff that have helped us turn into a country of lardbutts, to put it bluntly.

But the problem with restaurants that promise more healthful food is that they too often neglect the flavor part of the equation. "The flavor's in the fat" not only applies to beef but to many other foods as well, and if you take it out without adding something to compensate for the loss of flavor, extreme blahness is the result.

So without even getting into religion or philosophy or anything else here, it seems strictly logical: What better marriage than Indian food and healthful food? This is an inherently flavorful cuisine, its dishes crafted with layers of flavors brought about chiefly through deft use of spice blends, as well as contrasting textures.

Mantra Masala bills its fare as "healthy cuisine from India," but it makes no specific nutritional claims, and the presence of ghee -- basically clarified butter, to you and me -- on its menu is a hint that there isn't exactly asceticism in play here. Still, when telling us about the wonders of the fresh mussels that would star in the Mussels Masala ($8.95) appetizer, a man whose bearing indicated proprietorship mentioned repeatedly that the dish contained no oil.

And they turned out to be only presumably healthful (relatively speaking, of course) mussels but the very best we've had, at least in recent memory. That was in large part because they were scrupulously fresh, completely absent the strong (read: "nasty") flavors that arise when seafood gets a little long in the tooth. But it also was in large part because of the fresh-tomato sauce that cloaked them, and the coriander, cumin, ginger, garlic and rose-petal water (just a hint of the last; the result was far from flowery) also employed therein.

The simple, plebian vegetable samosa ($4.95) was another triumph at Mantra Masala. The samosas -- there were two -- were filled with sort of the standard variety of vegetable -- some chunky and some not for a change-up in textures -- but what was particularly nice was that the pyramid-shaped crust was flaky, without a touch of grease. They were accompanied by cups of mint sauce, the mintiness offset by judicious use of coriander, and tamarind sauce, both of which added extra flavor accents and both of which our waiter left for use with other dishes.

Garlic nan ($2.95) was excellent, the stretchy bread lightly charred and graced with a no-holds-barred amount of garlic.

Lamb korma ($15.95) was likewise excellent, the chunks of meat braised until tender in an almond gravy, then graced with a creamy garlic sauce (much more subtle than the nan) before serving.

And Chicken Mantra ($14.95), also tender chunks of meat, but this time in a cashew-yogurt-and-coriander sauce.

And one of the best things: We requested one dish mild, one medium, and the difference in heat factor was clear.

All of this was served in a very pleasant dining room, with Indian-inspired peaked arches over each booth, modern Indian art on the walls and modern Indian music playing softly somewhere. The atmosphere was soothing and service was prompt, and in these tough economic times when so many mom-and-pops are going begging for customers, Mantra Masala had a pretty healthy component of them on a weeknight.

But there were a few service glitches. We were charged for an extra glass of wine, which we noticed at the restaurant, and management adjusted the tab with profuse apologies.

Attractive little pots of basmati rice accompanied our entrees, and the menu noted, "all above entrees served with basmati rice," but it wasn't until after we'd departed that we noticed a $3.25 charge.

The man who'd touted the mussels alluded to nan with them, and we were charged $1.95 for it.

And a cup of chai tea that we ordered after dinner was apparently forgotten, but at least we weren't charged for it.

The extra charges weren't much in the scheme of things, and Mantra Masala's prices are certainly in the reasonable range, but this felt sort of nickel-and-dimey, and a restaurant this (otherwise) skilled should be above that.

The food at Mantra Masala does indeed luxuriate on the palate, but we didn't feel as guilty about it as we do about other food in that category. And as far as Indian restaurants go, it's right up there with the best in the valley.

Las Vegas Review-Journal restaurant reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@reviewjournal.com.