Behind the fluorescent-lit aisles of canned Spam, underwater goggles and cereal boxes stands a man roasting coriander and cloves, whose only dream is to cook Indian food from the back of an unmarked Remington bodega.

Gurnek Bassi and his family operate India Tandoor, a kitchen hidden behind the register of their 2900 Huntingdon Ave. convenience store. Calling it a restaurant is generous. There’s no signage, no seating.

The staff consists of Bassi, who navigates the kitchen in a blue apron and an old pair of aviators; Ranjit, his wife who operates the register; and their 19-year-old daughter, Raman Johal, who flips through three tablets checking for online orders and fills in as a kitchen aide, translator, manager, and, more recently, she says, a certified food safety specialist. She takes turns with her younger brother sharing the only available seat, a black safe draped in a “Toy Story” blanket.

Resident Ken Mosher, who lives around the corner, described the eatery as “excellent food from excellent people.” Regular Sam Gauss said India Tandoor has became a staple in their house. Neighbor David Shapiro visits for the huge portions, and Baltimorean Danielle Jean said it reminds her of when Remington was filled with small corner stores and delis.

It’s an unorthodox setup for a beloved hub of Indian food — to everyone but Bassi.

“He prefers this,” Johal said, translating for her father. “He just really wants to cook.”

The chef emigrated from India’s Punjab state to Baltimore in 1999 and took over his first space on 2101 N. Charles St. that same year with aspirations of starting a successful restaurant. In his home country, his family ran a hotel and an eatery, where at 20 he learned how to cook. His mother showed him palak and shahi paneer, Punjabi curries of blanched spinach and tomatoes and onions, each with heavy cream and a soft Indian cottage cheese. Chicken biryanis with cumin and saffron-coated rice and chicken tikka masala in a rich tomato gravy were fast favorites.

Bassi’s first restaurant, also named India Tandoor, survived 14 years. Opened with an old friend, owner Dilawar Khatker, the business landed spots on local food lists from a Johns Hopkins newsletter to CBS News.

“India Tandoor may not have the prime location or atmospheric polish of some of its well-known competitors, but its food rivals the best we’ve had in Baltimore,” said a 1999 Baltimore Sun review.

Johal said her father was always more focused on the cooking. “I think his love kinda shines through it,” she said. He talks about it, he thinks about it, he pays attention to every detail. “I’ve never seen him forget a step.”

With the success of the first restaurant, Bassi and Ranjit, who joined him stateside in 2006, bought property, including the building on Huntingdon Avenue. The site contained a kitchen and a leased-out convenience store, separated by a wall. They hatched a plan, alongside Khatkher, to sell chicken tenders, butterfly fries and steak subs out of the kitchen.

“The owner [Khatkher] and my dad, they really had an interest in American food],” Johal said. “They’d seen a lot of restaurants doing it.”

They thought the American food would sell. But the kitchen opened in 2013 to little fanfare. It was the same year India Tandoor closed due to staffing issues. By 2014, Bassis and Khatkher took over the convenience store, in need of a boost to cover losses from the kitchen.

The business struggled. On occasion, Bassi returned to the fundamentals: masala curries, creamy dal, or lentil stews, and Punjabi samosas of potatoes and peas. But the kitchen closed in 2015.

It took another few years for the area to see a boom in local business from the successful 29th Street Tavern, which opened in 2018 next to the convenience store; Café Los Sueños, which opened in 2021 down the block; and R. House, the bustling food hall opened in 2016 that brought a new swarm of customers to Remington.

“When we first moved to the neighborhood there wasn’t an R. House or anything,” Johal said. “It was just a neighborhood.”

For almost a decade, Bassi reserved his cooking for Johal and the family. When Bassi brought lunch into the bodega, the smells of cumin and ginger would waft through the store. “People would see him eating it and be like, ‘Oh, you’re selling food again,’ ” Johal said.

Over time, they kept asking. So the family did some renovation: trading a pizza oven for a new air fryer, updating their clay oven, known as a tandoor, and tearing down the wall that divided the businesses.

“It seemed like the convenience store would make more money if we reopened [the kitchen],” Johal said, translating for her mother.

In the large, brown-tiled kitchen, hidden from view behind a door and plastic screen, Bassi has returned to making fried Indian pakora, crispy bite-sized fritters, pappadam, a lentil cracker primed for curry-dipping and munching, paneer and masala stews and flavorful meats smoked in the tandoor.

He moves from the oven to the pan, tossing cream-based sauces between rolls of garlic naan and roti, which stick to the sides of the tandoor. “Word’s gotten around,” Johal said, with a large portion of orders coming from DoorDash.

Two weeks ago they had their busiest day: 18 orders. And while the food is 30% off when paid with cash, most days they get a slow trickle.

New challenges are in store for the family. Johal said they’re watching as grocery prices rise and more restaurants struggle to keep up and attempt to reinvent themselves. They have no marketing budget, and without even a sign on the bodega’s door, its a wonder to most that the new India Tandoor kitchen is staying busy.

But the family’s not looking to compete for business, expand the kitchen and menu, or even add seating. All he cares about, Johal said, is serving good food.

This post has been updated.