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This one is all matty....I've eaten 1/2 of my
NASA curries and plan to eat the rest this week and give my review of
all 4 I got...... (ren)
Bombay Curry House – Chestnut Street
- San Francisco, California.
Well, I got the itchy
travel feet again and with a 4 day weekend, it made sense to get out
of town. I found some cheap airfare to San Francisco and after several
ridiculously snide comments by, of all people, my mom and sister about
me possibly turning gay, I was off to the Bay Area.
San Fran is a cosmopolitan city and
while there’s
a tonnes of tourist stuff to do, I was sure that I could also probably
find some Indian food. I set up camp in a dodgy motel in the Marina
district away from the tourist traps of Fisherman’s wharf. After
all there’s a big difference between a traveler and a tourist.
And so it was that, I put on my Miami Vice blazer and hit the streets
to hang out with the dotcommers, uberposh and hellacool.
Two doors down from the Horseshoe
Tavern on Chestnut Street is the Bombay Curry House. It’s a long narrow restaurant
with the approximate dimensions of a standard airplane fuselage. An
old man, almost certainly a widower or a life long bachelor, was the
only person dining there when I walked in. He sat in pain, unaware
that his napkin had fallen to his feet while nervously writing things
down in a tiny notebook. I imagined this is what I will look like at
the age of 70 if I don’t have the massive heart attack at 30.
This probably did little to add to atmosphere.
It’s a husband and wife operation and I
tell the wife that I eat curry once a week so as to give her an idea
of how spicy the dish should be. Dining without Ren tonight, I take
the opportunity to have the pappadums (which Ren hates as much as I
hate butter chicken) with mango chutney as an appatizer. Decent, but
nowhere near as good as tomato soup. My mango lassi was overfilled
with ice, lending it to spillage on my Miami Vice coat. For the main
coarse, I selected Fish Curry Madras. I wanted to order naan but got
pressured by the waitress to get the combination plate with rice and
dessert instead. Why are Indian people always insisting on the combination
platter? Probably cause Indian dessert sucks ass and it’s the
only way to get rid of it. Bastards. The Fist Curry arrived completely
underspiced, leaving me helladissapointed. I refused dessert on this
basis.
Really, there weren’t that many positive
to my San Franciscan curry experience other then to say that it inspired
me to get absolutely “ripped” in Marina later on. The owners
are friendly but I can’t give the meal any more then a generous
6 elephantitis feet out of 10.
3 people not seen at the Restaurant:
- Rick
James
- Don Mattingly
- Robert Goulet
Rating:
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