A burger goes to India 🍽

Regional chain Gaia Masala successfully fuses multicultural menu for the latest-night comfort food option along Tejon Street

Photos by Matthew Schniper

Boulder-launched and Denver-amplified Gaia Masala & Burger opened its fifth regional location a few months ago, this time in Colorado Springs. It has a lot going for it. It’s open until 3 a.m. to mop-up late-night demand; its menu is diverse, spanning a blend of Indian, Mediterranean, Italian and American dishes, including hybrids between them; and from what we sample everything’s pretty damn good. Plus relatively reasonably priced for the respective categories, with ample portions. 

Located in the former Marco’s Pizza next to the now-vacant Pikes Perk building on Tejon Street, Gaia Masala inherited some odd structural decor that they’ve just gone with. Like the stone wall separating the open kitchen from the small-ish dining room, its archway introducing somewhat of a Tuscan vibe that’s carried through in the framed, poster-sized photographs of Italian plazas and the like. A digital menu beams above the ordering counter, adjacent to a soda fountain and drink cooler. Despite that counter service, the attentive and notably warm and friendly staff runs food and checks in often, easily earning a typical gratuity as if it were full table service.

Going into our meal, I initially worried the somewhat catch-all menu would lack focus to the point of not executing any of the cuisines well enough — like so many botched “fusion” menus of memory past. And not everything that grows to multiple locations deserves to, thanks to a marketplace often informed by low-common-denominator eaters with insipid tastes if we’re honest (and mean) about it. But Gaia Masala defies the odds with competency across categories. Which isn’t to say it’s flawless. 

The paneer tikka masala calzone for instance, which we order at a just-right medium heat level, delivers an obscene stuffing of cheese between the melty but still composed paneer chunks and the fully gooey mozzarella that’s best shared between a table and treated like an appetizer. Unless you don’t desire to poop for a couple days (not speaking from experience). The Indian spice profile is infused into the Italian vessel, and the dough’s soft, pillowy and delightful. And there’s a pleasant Gaia sauce made with (unknown) spices, sour cream, mayo and honey for optional dipping, if you want even more creaminess. 

The lamb tikka masala burger, ordered hot, delivers a welcome spicy kick that never overwhelms, again bringing terrific Indian tastes to America’s most ubiquitous protein between two bread slices. The only downside is that the whole saucy affair sogs fairly quickly resulting in an overall mushy texture. (Thinking of you Dionne with your “I don’t do wet bread” comment from years past that I’ll always remember.) Still, I think you should try the burger for its unique factor. It comes with a side option for $18; we choose sweet potato fries for $1 more, crispy and well prepared.

Where the outfit really shines, as far as our limited sampling shows, is with their unadulterated Indian fare. Big cups of mango lassi for $6 have real fruit flavor and I feel its granular grit across my tongue like a fuzziness, with non-synthetic flavor and a non-cloying sweetness level. The cooling drink aids with the burger heat for our one dining companion who’s less spice tolerant. The house spicy chai zings with ginger and finishes like the lightly tannic black tea warm milk it is. It’s good. (There’s no boozy drinks served, FYI.) 

Our Daal Tadka, ordered medium, delivers the simple joy we want in a light lentil dish to balance the heavier items on the table. One whole chile pepper spikes the thick stew, floating on top next to chopped cilantro as bits of tomato chunk peek through the brownish-yellow mud. We mop it up with rice and pieces of honey naan, which is exactly what it sounds like: naan covered in honey, like it wants to be a sopaipilla. We ordered it wondering if it would be honey incorporated into the dough, but don’t entirely regret the decision because, well, honey. I wouldn’t normally reach for it with a starchy bean dish, but I have no reason to complain in the moment. 

Lastly on our family-style spread, we’ve ordered a plate of vegetable mono, steamed. They’re essentially potstickers, or you wouldn’t be misunderstood to call them dumplings, just differently shaped. Here, the soft, tacky dough is pinched into braids along a top crest, like a steep mountain ridge. The filling is standard-good and the highlight is the warmed, tart-spicy vegetable dip served with it, made with cucumber, tomato, jalapeño and garlic, we’re told. 

We have more food than three of us can eat and end up with a to-go box. It’s foam, (outlawed in Colorado as of the beginning of the year) and it doesn’t fit in the narrow paper bag we’re given unless you slide it in sideways, in opposition of the handles to carry it. It’s a random disconnect seemingly obvious to remedy and just odd enough to warrant comment here. 

So, again, Gaia Masala isn’t flawless. But it’s interesting, flavorful and sincere enough to overcome that, and I do want to return for more of the international menu mash-up. We’ve just scratched the surface, and I like what I taste.