MacGurn has said that his kitchen resembles an ashram. And so it does. It's airy and open and spotless, and candles burn all day long. The cooks seem almost somnambulant as they ladle circles of fermented rice batter onto hot griddles, sprinkle them with combinations of vegetables, fish, chicken, and cheese, and fold them over loosely like giant, handmade envelopes; they're so in synch with the process that even when a lunch crush wreaks chaos in the dining room it takes only about four minutes to get your dosai, which are served practically hanging over the edges of wax-paper-lined cafeteria trays.

This cuisine draws some of the same trendmongering adherents that modern yoga does, which means that the line to order is clogged with an international crowd of cell-phone blabbing Prada-wearers. Though the walls are lined with portraits of Swami Chidvalasananda, during the lunch rush there's not a lot of Ashtanga posturing going on; instead it's pushing ("Will you be leaving this table soon?) and posing ("Are you going to produce or direct?").

But never mind. Once the food arrives, everyone meditates on the incomparable experience of dosai. The crunchy, tangy wrapper perfectly complements MacGurn's fourteen fillings; the No. 6, classic masala (spiced potatoes) with spinach, Jack cheese and tomato, is the best. But everything else- Tuna, avocado, and arugula; Kalamata olive,roasted tomato,onion,arugula,and goat cheese; Smoked turkey,spinach,Jack cheese, and balsamic-roasted onion-is satisfying in a way that no burrito or wrap sandwich ever could be. If you can't find a place to sit down, dosai are easy to eat on the street. Soup and grilled nan are also available. (Open from 11 A.M. to 8 P.M. daily. Entrees $7-11.) -Emily Nunn