Dravida Delves Into India’s Diaspora in New York’s East Village

1. Dravidian isn’t just a dialect — it’s a culture of cuisines that feels right at home in the East Village.

Representing a large swath of cultures and cuisines that often feel quite distinct, Sampath’s cooking underscores commonalities in the way dishes balance sour, spice, and heat. Nepali momos (steamed dumplings) meet South African bunny chow (braised meat curry, served over bread) with Sampath’s colorful chutneys and curries there to compliment and culminate.

And with the East Village’s many culinary offerings ranging from $10 dishes to Michelin-starred restaurants — which reminds her of Mumbai — she says Dravida feels right at home here. “The East Village called me,” says Sampath. “This feels like my neighborhood — gritty, so much charm.”

2. Expect cross-continental comfort foods.

Some people might see deviled eggs on the menu and think of the American classic, but for Sampath, “It takes me back to the street carts [in Mumbai] that boil eggs, cut them in half, salt, pepper, fried shallot on top, with tamarind sauce and spice.”

At Dravida, that spice is a Burmese roasted masala. Sampath notes that this dish is inspired by Myanmar refugees who made their way to India: “When you go to another country, food is the first thing you share — [it’s] the best way to communicate where you come from.”

Sampath’s own childhood memories come together in her blue crab curry ramen, a fancy spin on what she calls “an easy, forbidden snack — Maggi curry noodles.” The instant noodle dish with MSG and curry powder is a core memory for anyone growing up in India. At the restaurant, Sampath’s rendition pays homage to her mom’s recipe, which is a more sophisticated take with jumbo lump blue crab, curry butter, and green beans.

3. Even the humblest of ingredients are treated with painstaking care.

Puzhi is an Indian shallot variety that’s smaller and sweeter than what Sampath has been able to find in New York. Nevertheless, she uses a lot of shallots in her cooking, caramelizing cratefuls for a milder, signature savory notes in many dishes. “We peel our own, which is such a pain, and fry our own too, out of deep respect for shallots — red onion is too fierce.” Even though they’re three times the price of other alliums, she’s found that a little goes a long way. Sampath thinks of it as a celebration of making exemplary things out of simple, humble ingredients.

The same goes for sweet potatoes, which are slowly roasted in the wood-fired oven just as the fire is first lit each day, cooking slowly as the temperature rises, for nearly two hours. The interiors become even sweeter— a little jammy— and the skin gets crunchy and charred. These became the star of her vegetarian sweet potato entree that was influenced by Bhutan’s national dish, a stew called ema datshi, which translates to chile pepper and cheese.

4. The decor celebrates the tropics of coastal India — and spices.

Sampath wanted Dravida to have a sense of home and comfort. Personal touches like handmade candle holders, made from marble or granite and carved with symbols of Ganesha and Dancing Shiva, are on each table and were a gift from her parents. Coconut shell chandeliers come from home and subtly transport diners to the tropics of coastal India.

“Our logo is a freehand drawing of star anise, which we use in our food a lot,” says Sampath. “It’s one of those spices that most people don’t know what to do with, but it’s a mystery element, a floral note that’s one of our stars.” Along with the logo, the interior features a lime-washed wall mural illustrating many of the spices Dravida uses, from star anise and coriander leaves to hibiscus.

5. Sip on adult sodas and make plans for the forthcoming downstairs speakeasy.

While Dravida only offers beer and wine at the moment, they’re able to serve low-ABV spirits as well, the building blocks of refreshing palate cleansing cocktails. The signature Dravida Highball is currently made with falernum, ginger liqueur, hibiscus, and makrut lime leaf. The Orange Cream (honey, vermouth, Tahitian vanilla bean, and salted whip cream) is a riff on the many orange soda brands across the Caribbean and Indian. “Everyone has an orange soda,” she says. “We use tangerine in ours, when it’s in season.”

The Kola is an ode to the many versions of cola worldwide. Dravida’s take has a base of Angostura Amaro, kola nuts, and coffee fruit; Sampath balances out all that bitterness using “tons of Indian herbs and spices, lime and lemon peel — it’s so complex,” she says.

Downstairs, Sampath plans to open up a 25-seat speakeasy called Jam & Jaggery. “It won’t be a late-night spot with loud music and drinking beer,” she says. “You can comfortably have a N/A beverage when it’s late,” confessing that sometimes, all she wants to end a night is a great cup of tea.

Dravida is open Tuesday to Sunday from 4:30 to 10:30 p.m.

Michael Harlan Turkell is a food photographer, writer, and cookbook author. He most recently hosted the Modernist Pizza Podcast, and continues to explore the art, history, and science of many foodways. Follow him on Instagram and X. Follow Resy, too.