Since when did Indian food ever contain lard??? I mean, are they banking on people being so unfamiliar with the ingredients in Indian cuisine that this will be a selling point? In a way it’s kind of insulting in that regard, though I love that while in there waiting for your take-away grub you can look on at a disgusting chain restaurant and feel virtuous for supporting an independent, presumably family, business. But why not just find a way to sell that, I wonder?
I tell you what, they may not use lard, but every dish is so buttery that you don’t really feel virtuous when you’re wallowing in their decadent delights, just swaddled in good badness. I once asked the guy if they just used a ton of ghee, and he said “No, margarine.” Better not to ask I guess. It’s so gosh darn delicious.
There is actually another wonderful thing about the place — the owner, Bali, guilts the hell out of Swells and me if we don’t show up for more than two or three weeks. Once we pass the month mark we won’t go in because we know that the guilting will be so extreme. We usually brave the onslaught after a couple of months, but before we go in, we have to come up with a story why we haven’t been around in so long. Bali must think that we do nothing but go on really long trips…
What a great excuse to cultivate exotic and exciting alter egos! Embrace every morsel of it. Oh, and please, do this place the justice it deserves by describing what you order and how goodly bad (badly good?) it is, even if prepared with margarine. The photo needs a back story, me thinks.
Something similar used to happen to me in grad school–a small Greek place near campus where I often spent long afternoons pre-seminars–reading for class over the world’s best falafels and lentil soup for $5. If I missed a month or so, they would ask where I had been and I’d indicate via hand gestures that I was pinching pennies. They would say, “You no need pay. We feed you. You pay if you can later.” The guilt of that awesomeness kept me going back often because the guilt of NOT going was more than I could bare. These places, where our absence is noticed, are all too rare, don’t you think?
KS: The most luxurious thing we order here is mater paneer, or as he calls it for us, “cheese-n-peas.” Pretty much anything that comes swimming in a sauce that’s any version of gold in color, I will order. Scott tends more towards the reds and browns but it’s the golden ones that make me swoon. I also had my first lassi there last time and it tasted like a cheesecake milkshake (and was in a 100-ounce cup). The man is evil. Those praying hands are a symbol of me praying he will never go out of business.
nice!
do you know the work of the LA painter Lari Pittman?
He’s kind of the hometown painter of the LA landscape. LIke Edward Hopper on acid.
Like.
Makes me want a big eggy breakfast with waffles. MMMMMM.
This is actually a shot from our favorite Indian takeout place. We go to some lengths for a good meal is all I’m sayin’
Ha! I thought it was Jesusland. Still makes me want waffles – too early in the day for Indian food.
Love the framing. That must be some really good food, to make a couple of atheists get past this kind of iconography.
It reminds me of a Devo song:
You got praying hands
They pray for no man
Okay, relax, and assume the position
Go into doggie submission.
Since when did Indian food ever contain lard??? I mean, are they banking on people being so unfamiliar with the ingredients in Indian cuisine that this will be a selling point? In a way it’s kind of insulting in that regard, though I love that while in there waiting for your take-away grub you can look on at a disgusting chain restaurant and feel virtuous for supporting an independent, presumably family, business. But why not just find a way to sell that, I wonder?
I tell you what, they may not use lard, but every dish is so buttery that you don’t really feel virtuous when you’re wallowing in their decadent delights, just swaddled in good badness. I once asked the guy if they just used a ton of ghee, and he said “No, margarine.” Better not to ask I guess. It’s so gosh darn delicious.
There is actually another wonderful thing about the place — the owner, Bali, guilts the hell out of Swells and me if we don’t show up for more than two or three weeks. Once we pass the month mark we won’t go in because we know that the guilting will be so extreme. We usually brave the onslaught after a couple of months, but before we go in, we have to come up with a story why we haven’t been around in so long. Bali must think that we do nothing but go on really long trips…
What a great excuse to cultivate exotic and exciting alter egos! Embrace every morsel of it. Oh, and please, do this place the justice it deserves by describing what you order and how goodly bad (badly good?) it is, even if prepared with margarine. The photo needs a back story, me thinks.
Something similar used to happen to me in grad school–a small Greek place near campus where I often spent long afternoons pre-seminars–reading for class over the world’s best falafels and lentil soup for $5. If I missed a month or so, they would ask where I had been and I’d indicate via hand gestures that I was pinching pennies. They would say, “You no need pay. We feed you. You pay if you can later.” The guilt of that awesomeness kept me going back often because the guilt of NOT going was more than I could bare. These places, where our absence is noticed, are all too rare, don’t you think?
Geez, is it bear, not bare? F***ing homonyms. F***ing spring break and drinking wine in the middle of the day while goofing on the internets.
F***ing it NOT being spring break and drinking wine in the middle of the day while goofing on the internets!
KS: The most luxurious thing we order here is mater paneer, or as he calls it for us, “cheese-n-peas.” Pretty much anything that comes swimming in a sauce that’s any version of gold in color, I will order. Scott tends more towards the reds and browns but it’s the golden ones that make me swoon. I also had my first lassi there last time and it tasted like a cheesecake milkshake (and was in a 100-ounce cup). The man is evil. Those praying hands are a symbol of me praying he will never go out of business.
Now I would like matar paneer. But am on a weird paneer-precluding diet.