We are all familiar with the cautionary children’s fable of ‘city cousin visiting cousin from the country or farm’. The moral of the tale is that, while people may live differently in different locales, these differences are essentially valuable in their own right. In my experience the application of said fable occurs rarely. It usually only happens during university when city boys, having unexplainably and drunkenly wooed a farm girl, are invited back to the farms of small town Saskatchewan to meet her parents at Thanksgiving. Or maybe that’s the fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper. I don’t really know. Regardless, Ren and I had some type of life lesson when we traveled back to Regina for our friend Theresa’s housewarming and birthday party.  (matt)

The majority of the party guests were family and friends from small town Saskatchewan. Farm people are different than me. There’s no doubt. Case in point: I have no idea about how to show a championship bull. Or when calving season is. Or the difference between regular millet and wild millet. “Green Fox Tail” is something that happens when you score at the bar on St. Patrick’s day.  I can barely identify a combine. Ren might be slightly more versed then I, but not by much. Theresa served up a great meal with tonnes of alcohol. Problem being, no amount of alcohol could make up for our ignorance about life on the farm and it probably showed in our conversations. By early evening it was clear that at some point in the weekend, as improbable as it was, I was gonna have to find a piece of big city life (ie. a curry house) in the heart of Regina. (matt)

To get to the party I managed to make the rounds of a virtual highlight reel of Saskatchewan tourist attractions.  Whereas Matty had taken the fly-in fly-out-touch nothing route, I decided to go overland.  Always fun to take a summer roadtrip in my sportscar, plus I got to visit my college bud Mike in Swift Current, and my buddy Clint from way back from high school in Estevan.  Of course on the way I got to see some wonderful things, like ..... the moose jaw moose, and the set of Corner Gas.  Hmm...thats about it really.  I guess thats not much of a highlight reel.  Although, during a break in the party action, matt and I took a drive around Regina to see some of his favourite places from when he lived there. (ren)

By Sunday morning, Ren and I had convinced Theresa to take us for a brunch curry. We phoned around to the 3 Indian restaurants and none of them were open until supper. Ren, disgusted at this, immediately left Regina and was not seen the rest of the weekend. Theresa and I were left to fester in 40 degree heat, surviving only on Iced Cappuccinos until the evening. (matt)

Man....road trips are fun, but when it's time to go, it's time to go.  And I sure as hell wasn't going to leave Regina at 8 at night and then make the 8 hour drive home.  With curry-ass no-less.  As such, this will be the end of my contribution to this review. (ren)

Theresa suggested, based on the addresses of the restaurants, that we go to the dodgiest place. Good call Theresa. In this case, Flavours of India on Victoria Avenue. We walked in to find a giant dry –erase board greeting us with the day’s specials. After explaining the difference between Chicken Tikka and Chicken Tikka Masala (essentially, sauce is the difference. And probably price. Just like ABC laundry detergent.), we took our seats in a booth at the back of the restaurant. The restaurant is decorated with sporadic coats of arms and marionette dolls in a glass case. I think they are going for “A Knights Tale” meets street puppeteer vibe. Very Indian. And very En Vogue. They had some Indian soap operas on which were entertaining. We tried to figure out the plot. My best guess was “Girl miscarries. Disgraces husband. Stuffs pillows in clothes to appear pregnant.”  No wonder India has over a billion people.

We started with Paneer Pakora. They were excellent. Thumbs up.  For main entrees, Theresa ordered Butter Chicken and I had Chicken Korma. The butter chicken was okay I guess. The Chicken Korma on the other hand, I found disappointing. Basically reminded me of chicken breast cooked in mushroom soup. I think I made that once when I was twelve. The mango lassis were iced. Big no-no. The way we see it, if you want it cold, serve it a chilled glass rather than diluting my yoghurt. As for the naan, it was very non absorbant and basically useless in my “mushroom” sauce.

Theresa gave the experience an 8. Unfortunately for Flavours of India, Theresa isn’t a co- author for this website. For the price, $25 per person, I give FOI a 6.

Rating:

Addendum:

After the meal, Theresa and I took a nostalgic drive around Regina. It’s a city that I have mixed emotions about. Growing up in Saskatoon, it was always considered the sore sister. A governmental cesspool with bad water and family restaurants. The year I lived there after pharmacy school was full of life lessons. First apartments. First jobs. Being poor. Discussions of settling down. Broken hearts. A close knit pharmacy department. Minus 50 weather. If I had to pick a rock opera about my experiences in Regina, it would be Green Day’s Jesus of Suburbia.

We drove down to Wasacana Lake. Recently dredged, the notorious stench which existed years ago is no longer. It’s actually quite nice. Tonnes of joggers and dog walkers strolled along the lake, contently enjoying life in Regina. After a drink at near-by La Bodega, a posh patio-bistro and tapas bar, I momentarily envied the resident of the Queen City. Then I remembered they have better curry in Calgary and the feeling passed.