I’ve recently been trying to convince myself that I like Indian food. I’ve never been a fan, and I think that’s silly. There’s so much good Indian food out there, especially in LA, and it’s relatively cheap. I should be loving Indian food.
There are approximately 87 Indian restaurants within a one-mile radius of my apartment. They taunt me.
Every few months I get up the gumption to try Indian food anew. I get really excited about it. I ask friends for advice on what I should try. I am totally positive I am going to have an epiphany and love this shit. I WANT to love this shit. This never happens.
It’s not that I don’t like any Indian food. There are a few things I like very much. Samosas, obvi. Those things are mad-style tasty. I also tend to enjoy the stews, like lamb korma, etc. I could eat a metric ton of the various forms of naan and parathas. The desserts are awesome (even if I tend to find that if there are 6 desserts on the list, 5 of them will be some variation on starch-milk-cinnamon). I’ve also been known to dote upon the odd pakora or two.
However, in general, my tongue and my stomach just say no. My taste buds revolt once Indian food goes in my mouth. I think part of the problem is that I suspect that I may be one of these so-called “supertasters.” Basically, supertasters perceive bitter and sweet tastes more intensely than the average person. It’s genetic, and it’s related to the reasons why people like or hate cilantro or fennel (I hate both). Supertasters tend to prefer salty snacks, because the extra salt covers up the bitterness that exists in processed foods. Of course, maybe I’m not a supertaster and I just like potato chips. Whatever. All I know is I don’t like coriander (which is the seed of cilantro – other countries use the name “coriander” for both the seeds and the leaves), and I don’t like fennel seed. Both problems for Indian food. I also don’t enjoy curries all that much (I like some of the milder yellow curries). This seriously cuts down on my options. I can take these ingredients in small doses if there are other flavors surrounding them (for example, I like samosas even though there’s usually coriander inside, but there are lots of other notes and a nice buttery, starchy base). But, if there’s more than a bit, it’s all I can taste.
It’s not just the taste, either. It’s actually the smell that’s worse. If I smell Italian sausage cooking, I have to leave, because the smell of fennel seed literally nauseates me. My stomach doesn’t quite like the smell of curry or coriander either. So, I can’t really stand to be in an Indian restaurant, because even if I’m not eating these things, the place always SMELLS like these things, and it puts me off. So, if I get Indian food, I usually get takeout, which is, of course, not the best way to judge cuisine.
My biggest problem with the taste of Indian food (at least the Indian food I’ve tried, the “authenticity” of which I can’t really speak to) is that a lot of it tends to be lacking in base notes for me. All I taste are top notes (and many of them). I’m missing a brightness, a well-rounded attack on my palate. Again, I think it may be this “supertaster” thing – I overtaste the spices, and they dwarf the other flavors.
But, the other night I decided to try Indian food again. This time I went for Lawrence of India, because it got excellent reviews for its former location. I’m not very knowledgeable on the different regional cuisines of India, but this place is a southern Indian restaurant. They even serve beef, because the owners are from a Christian part of southern India (big crucifix on the wall, btw).
I was totally optimistic about Lawrence of India, if only for its hilarious name. I wanted nothing more than to love this place and have a new favorite takeout option. I ordered a bunch of things so I could take a broader survey and really give this stuff a chance.
I also wasted $25. The only thing that was good was the samosa. The lamb biryani was fine I guess. The keema naan was blander than bland and extraordinarily greasy. The pakora and the onion bhaji were DISGUSTING. How can you make fried vegetables and onions disgusting? They tasted rancid. The pakora didn’t look like any other pakora I’ve seen (not that I’m an expert). Instead of fried little pieces, it was like big globs of who-knows-what vegetable something, and it looked more like soggy tempura than pakora.
First of all, this place did itself absolutely no favors from the beginning. I ordered the food, and they told me 20 minutes. I walked in after 25 minutes, because I like to give them time to make it, but I don’t like to wait too long and have my food be cold. The food wasn’t ready, which, you know, fine. I waited at one of the tables. And waited. The owner brought me an iced tea, which was lovely. I’m thinking, okay, the dude is nice and this tea is delicious, so I’ll just be patient, and maybe the food will be worth it. 35 minutes after I ordered, the owner told me my food was ready. But when I got up there, it wasn’t my food, but some other dude’s. The owner asked what I ordered, so I told him, and he looked confused.
Then I saw a post-it with my order sitting on the desk, not having been entered into one of the order tickets. He quickly covered it up and told me my order was coming in two minutes. I asked, “Really two minutes, or fake two minutes?” He confidently responded, “Really two minutes.”
10 minutes later, he came over to me and said, “Okay, I lied.” “Yes,” I said. “I pretty much figured that out from the beginning.” Then he gave me some story about how everything was done except the keema naan, and that as the cook was finishing it, he accidentally flipped it into the garbage can. WTF? I just said, “Uhh, whatever, how much longer?” “I’ll check,” he says, “because I don’t want to lie to you.” How charming of him.
Finally they give me my food. 55 minutes after I ordered it. I didn’t get pissy. I just oozed disappointment. Like a parent shaming her child, not with yelling and punishment, but with the simple statement, “I’m disappointed in you.” The food did not do anything to restore my confidence in the possibilities of Indian cuisine.
I had such high hopes for you, Lawrence. You’ve let me down. How can I trust you in the future?
Korma korma korma. Korma. Creamy, sweet cashew korma.
ReplyDeleteAlso, my preferred samosa style is "glob" style, fritters of diced onion, roughly minced cauli and chiles, bound with a well-seasoned gram flour batter. (That's chickpea, fwiw.) But they MUST be crispy and appropriately sized.
Also, I love Indian food, but most places that sell it suck a dick. I've eaten at at least 16 restos and I fully endorse only 2, neither of which are in LA. Honestly, are there Indian people in LA? There have to be, right? but the Bay Area and San Jose have srs populations.