Hot Murga Indian Hot Chicken Opens in New Haven

"Suffer for your art” is the operative phrase when reviewing a hot chicken joint. From the roar of takeoff, to the turbulence, and spine-compressing jolt of landing, you know what’s coming because you’ve bought the ticket and taken this ride before. You can predict the future: it’s the opposite of gambling. In a new study researchers found gorillas will spin themselves until they fall over because getting dizzy is kind of like getting high to them, and that’s fun. Same goes for humans scorching our faces off via chicken breast. 

Occasionally on the rides we buy, something unexpected happens. It may be a “Yes, thank you for waiting: we currently have no idea where we sent your bags,” or it may be “So sorry, there’s a mechanical issue on your cross-Atlantic flight, and you’ll have to stay in a free room in Reykjavik for 24 hours and watch the Aurora Borealis.” Could go either way. Which is why it’s pretty cool to find an Indian/Nashville hot chicken smashup on Howe Street in New Haven.

Hot Murga – that's “Hot Chicken” to you – has taken over the spot from Pataka, which current restaurateur Romy Singh formally owned and ran with his brother. Pataka has moved to Long Island City, and the brothers are continuing a tradition in the industry, with New Haven’s House of Naan and Sitar both in the family portfolio.

“We took a family trip to Nashville,” Singh told us. “Went to Hattie B’s, a couple other places, and we noticed each place had a different way of doing their chicken. That’s when the idea struck. Hot chicken is so popular now, so we wanted to add our own twist.”

Hot Murga was open by mid-May, this year. Singh says the top of the menu Murga Sandwich has been the most popular, followed by its Murga Masala version and, Romy was surprised to find, the Badmaash mac & cheese, which is topped with fried chicken, tikka masala sauce, and mint chutney.

There is an Impossible brand vegetarian “chicken” sandwich, the mac & cheese and waffles are both available as standalone sides, and Singh says they’re working on additional vegetarian offerings. 

Murga Sauce is a sweet and savory blend of vegan mayonnaise, mustard, and Indian spices, and is available as-is, which is mild, or dosed up in levels from Medium to Super Hot. I ordered the flagship sandwich, because if a place is putting their name on a dish, I’ma eat it. 

I chose to start with Medium spicy which, and tolerances vary, was just enough to get my attention on the first bite, and caused a bit of a heat cough by the fifth. It’s perfect for a spice fix without the pain. The sandwich is topped with pickled red onion, coleslaw, and cucumber pickles - which are strictly necessary. Present me a fried chicken sandwich sans pickles, and I will judge you, sir. 

The exterior breading on the breast was super crispy, had a good crusty and peppery taste on its own, and held up well to the sauce. The chicken itself was plump and well cooked. I had planned to save room and sample around the menu, but found myself plowing through this whole thing before I knew it. 

Hot Murga’s house-made ginger and lavender lemonade is a huge winner, with eye opening fresh ginger from the instant you open the little bottle. It’s fresh, citric, and spicy, but smoothed out with lavender essences and hits of butterfly pea flower tea. It’s super refreshing as both beverage and palate cleanser, and mercifully cooling. I predicted people were going to come in off the street just to take bottles of this to go, and suggest to Singh he sell it in larger bottles.

“Oh, we’ve already had people come in and ask if they could buy it by the gallon,” he said. I will personally take New Haven side-quests to give him my money if this happens.

Other options include the Murga and waffles with cardamom-infused maple syrup, sliders, tenders, and the Badmaash’s Fries.

“Badmaash” typically means naughty or bad, Romy says, so the carb-heavy fries or macaroni in the two dishes makes them kind of a cheat-day meal, but – language evolving as it does – the word can also mean kind of badass (it’s also the name of the chicken in the restaurant’s logo), and these are definitely leveled-up versions of your typical sides.

The fries are spiced whole potato fries still sporting skin, which I love for the additional flavor and texture it adds. They’re served coated liberally in Murga sauce, coleslaw, and chopped pickles – both cucumber and onion - and sliced chunks of chicken fingers. I chose to get this one Medium as well to test out all the flavors without one overpowering the rest, and the heat was much less pronounced, probably due to getting mixed into the additional starch and cool vegetables. These would be a massive success as a late-night sop, or as a day-after hangover cure. Eat an order, have a long afternoon lie-down, wake up at 9p.m. not knowing what year it is, and you’re otherwise right as rain.

BUT WE AREN’T HERE TO GO SOFTLY INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT, NOW ARE WE???

Something about the endorphin kick of Scoville Units brings out the masochist in people, like a legal drug you can take before driving. We’re here for the hot chicken, we’re damn-sure getting the Hot sauce. An order of two tenders with sides of slaw and Murga sauce comes to $11, on lightly toasted unadorned white bread as God and Miss Hattie B intended. 

A fat, ochre line of sauce runs down each finger like a threat. The first bite goes by without incident. My nose was running a bit, but I was mainly chewing my way through a peppery curry flavor much different than the Medium Murga. What we’d think of as Indian flavors – coriander, cumin, mace, turmeric, etc. - were much more obvious in the Hot sauce, but not difficult at all for anyone who regularly likes to play with lingual fire. The second bite was a gentle ramp up from the first: flavors now pulling a bit of a u-turn and looking over their shoulders as they see the heat approaching. I sneeze. Ow. 

To be honest, one finger down, my thought was: ‘This could be hotter.’ So, fool that I am, I ask for a dipping cup of the Super Hot. 

“We also have a shaker of ghost pepper powder for…” Romy says, searching for the right word. 

“People who say ‘This isn’t hurting me enough’?” I offer. He snaps his fingers and points.

“Exactly.”

Why does that have to mean me? 

Big hits of chili and cumin strike immediately as I pop the already “Hot” sauced chunk – now “Super” - into my mouth. It’s almost a spicy BBQ effect, with a heat that creeps forward from the back of the tongue to the lips. This is much more like it, although the Super is still a far cry from the Accidentally-Swallowed-A-Bombardier-Beetle internal flame thrower of the Haven- or Howling Hot Chicken varietals. An unexpected benefit is coating your tongue with this sauce greatly enhances bites of the coleslaw, adding depth and making the cool crunch really pop. 

All the levels – from Medium to Super – were tasty, and I’d say Singh has accomplished his mission of putting an interesting cultural spin on the Tennessee classic currently barnstorming the northeastern states. If any of the above gets to be a bit too much for you, he’ll even sell you a cup of cardamom-rose cheesecake ice cream. Every ride deserves a soft landing.

Hot Murga

140 Howe St., New Haven

Hotmurga.com; 475 321 2153

Open daily, 11a.m. - 10p.m.