
We’re going for a hat trick this weekend with The Samosa House Surrey, our third Surrey Indian restaurant review in a row! Be sure to check out our recent resto reviews of Hot Pan Pizza and Major Joy Flavoured Chicken so that you’re up to date on our current adventures in take-out.
The Samosa House was kind enough to send their entire lineup for feedback: 16 samosas, 3 lassi shakes, 2 dahi bujjias, 1 box pakoras, and a partridge in a pear tree. It worked well last week, so what better way to start than by sticking our straws into their sweet, juicy lassis ($5.99 each) and slurping up the creamy goodness?
From left to right the Mango Lassi was a sticky sip of paradise popping with brilliant orange colour. Caramel Sweet wasn’t as caramelly as I’d expected from the veiny rivulets of syrup running through it’s milky white base, but it was sweet indeed with just the right sour notes from the yogurt to balance the two tastes in harmony. Coconut was my pick of the litter, with a very bold tropical flavour.

Samosa House’s Mix Veg Pakora ($7.49) is a whole pound of flawless fritters. Moist and crisp in all the right places, no weird burnt bits or random fried veg-less matter, just healthy-sized chunks of dippable deliciousness.

Speaking of dips, the pakora comes with Samosa House’s tongue-tingling Tamarind sauce ($1.29 regular size, seen above drizzled on the samosas), but works equally well when dipped in the spicy-sour Mint Chutney ($1.29 regular). While Samosa House is sticking to tradition with the sauces, we are about to get into some pretty creative concoctions here as you might guess from the springroll-style shell on the samosas. It’s a lot lighter and less oily than the bubbling crusts on standard samosas, and as long as you aren’t a hardline samosa fundamentalist it’s difficult to find fault with the choice as it gives room for the unique flavours to shine.
Each samosa is a little triangular pocket with 4″ sides and about an inch and a quarter of depth (yes, electricians measure EVERYTHING). At a buck or two a pop this seems like a decent amount of dough for your dough.

BBQ Chicken ($2.09 each, every samosa has a minimum order of two and goes down in price on a sliding scale for group orders) is filled with Samosa House’s secret spice- and signature sauce-seasoned chicken breast. There’s some crunchy onion in there but it’s mainly sweet and spicy shredded chicken. I found that most of The Samosa House’s menu items had at least a light touch of sweetness to them which fit the fun finger food vibes.

The Garden Mix Samosa ($1.95) is stuffed with earthly delights including corn, peas, carrots, potato, onions, cumin seeds, coriander, and a few sparse grains of rice. She’s a gooder for dipping.

I wouldn’t dare dip the Shahi Samosa ($1.95) though. Bursting with cashew cream flavour, the tiny diced cubes of paneer cheese were laced with bits of coriander and onion. This one is an absolute must-try.

I had high hopes for the Butter Chicken Samosa ($2.09), and it didn’t really let me down but I wasn’t wowed either. Maybe could use a bit more sauce? It was rich but still somewhat dry, with the butter chicken flavour more of an aftertaste than anything. Worth a try though and still beats the overly salted generic meat samosas I’ve had most anywhere else in Surrey.

Takin’ it back to the old school with the Classic (above right, at a classic price of $.99), you got your potatoes, peas, coriander and cumin. It’s your basic garden-variety samosa (well, apart from the actual garden variety samosa we tasted above of course). Another great way to soak up those sauces.
Same core ingredients in the Spicy Samosa (above left, $1.09) but there’s a lot more colour and cumin, maybe some cardamom and no doubt some arcane spices only your bibi would know. The aromas wafting up from this one were a spice-head’s dream.
The Paneer Samosa (below right, $1.95) has the requisite Indian-style cheese with a light mix of corn, red and green peppers and a low-pro spice mixture. Another sauce soaker-upper but a bit too plain Jane for my tastes.

Masala ($1.75, above left) on the other hand is another nose-turner. Sour and musky, the kind of scent that makes you recoil immediately, only to come back for a second whiff like a dog who’s discovered its owners dirty gym sock for the first time. Am I making you hungry yet?
Thankfully, the taste was much more forgiving, though be warned it was the spiciest of the bunch for me! Chickpeas, potatoes and plenty of tamarind and chilis thrown in for good measure. Putting either of the chutneys on this one would have been overkill so I drizzled some of the yogurt/tamarind sauce from the dahi gujjia for a bit of a mash-up. Order both and try for yourself!

It definitely packed a wallop so I was infinitely grateful to have my Dahi Gujjia on hand for the cool down ($5.49, single dumpling available for $3.49). What could I possibly say about Dahi Gujjia that hasn’t been said a million times already? Think I’ll just let it speak for itself.
…Just kidding I had no idea either. When the guy from The Samosa House handed it to me I exclaimed, “Oh cool, I love Dal Bhaji!!”, totally oblivious to what the hell this actually was. May have tried it before at a chaat house or perhaps at Vaisakhi, but basically it’s a fat lentil flour dumpling with a mealy texture like cream of wheat soaking in a yogurt and tamarind bath and stuffed down the center with raisins and cashews. Sweet, salty, spicy and cool, it isn’t dessert per se, but decidedly dessert-ish. I’d be equally comfortable cooling my mouth with this between bites or saving it for an after-dinner treat.
The Samosa House’s slogan is “we speak samosa”, and thanks to them I think I’ve discovered my new love language. That being said I’ve had enough samosas this weekend that I’ll be going on a bit of a break to explore my options… But I’ll miss you in the meantime Samosa House. Til we meet again 😘