Indian Food

I love Indian food. I hadn't had it in a while, so last night we ordered from our favourite spot, a place called Modern India. If there is anything especially modern about the restaurant, I haven't figured out what that would be, but they make excellent food and we've been customers for years.

I first tried Indian food when I was 19. I had been "hired" to drive two restaurant owners and an actor from the Stratford Shakespeare Festival from Stratford to Chatham, drop them off at the train, pick them up in London, then return home to Stratford. Apparently I had my name down at the Department of Truly Strange Jobs that summer and they had come through yet again.

When we reached London, my passengers decided that we should stop to eat and asked me if I liked really spicy food. I told them that I did, but probably had something like corn relish in mind. They knew a good Indian restaurant and off we went.

The food was very spicy, but nothing I couldn't handle...for a while. Soon, a strange sensation overtook me, as though I was being choked, and I excused myself to go to the washroom. I was alarmed to see steam coming out of my ears, accompanied by a train whistle. My eyes watered so much, I may have actually been crying. I tried to cool my tongue down by putting it in the sink and running water over it, but it somehow seemed to make the situation worse. I thought about escaping through the small window in the washroom, but realized the Department would learn of the escape and I wouldn't be considered for the chicken catching job next week.

The ultimate insult was that at no time was I ever paid for my driving and assume that torture by Indian food had been my payment.

But somehow I couldn't stop thinking about the interesting flavours of that meal and over time I learned to cope with the heat.

When I was first married, my wife and I would go to the only Indian restaurant in the town where we lived. They soon recognized us and offered us poppadoms, "compliments of the house." We were made to believe that only the most loyal customers received this honour, but I don't believe anyone ever paid for poppadoms at that restaurant. I've never ordered poppadoms in my life, but to this day, my expectation is that they would always be free.

We moved and were thrilled to find that our new home also had one Indian restaurant. Unfortunately, the restaurant was nearly empty every time we went and we were not surprised when it closed.

When we moved again, there were two Indian restaurants and both were excellent. It was at one of those restaurants that I dined with an Indian friend of mine and learned something quite interesting-when a non-Indian person says they want their food prepared hot, they get an eight or nine (out of 10). When an Indian person orders hot, it's a 50. It was during one of these meals that I discovered the magical soothing powers of plain yogurt.

We have several Indian restaurants to choose from where we're living now, but we love the food at Modern India and I can't imagine taking my business anywhere else. Ordering has become as simple as saying my name and they assume correctly that our order will remain unchanged from last time. I think our friend at the restaurant believes my last name is my first name, but it's much too late to correct him now.

Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I have some left-overs in the fridge.