After my semi successful wisdom tooth extraction three days ago, I'm resigned to eating soft foods for about a week. By "soft" I mean nursing home cookin'. After all, I can only open my mouth about an inch. I'm a fair cook but I need to be waited on when in this state of ugliness. Sadly lacking a personal cook, this has meant three days of oatmeal shakes made with almond milk and stevia root, which allows for the sweet craving to be fulfilled, yet I am craving savory food like it's nobody's business. Are wisdom teeth also known as the sweet tooth? I don't have all four anymore! I'm sick of sweet.
I've tried whipping up some soups but then forget that the chewy bits are inevitable (posole!), so I end up slurping down the broth and being perpetually hungry. This is no doubt good for my figure, but today I was cranky because I didn't have enough energy to have a good workout. I know... I know. I'm so difficult.
At 5pm, when faced with just a blender and no energy to speak of, cabin fever won out over vanity. I decided to head out to Lawrence with the K for dinner before band practice. I figured Indian would be a safe bet for at least a few tablespoons of food that packed a punch. And saag dishes are a comfort food for me, even though I knew I'd probably get about three spoonfuls in before giving up.
If it's "all about the food," India Palace gets a solid three stars. My only quip is that when I say I want food "Indian hot" that means, Indian hot. Not white girl hot. Just saying. It's a tasty respectable dish here. But. This isn't just about the food because hello, cranky girl with a hunger problem in the hizzouse.
You know how most reviews make mention of the overbearing service one receives at Indian restaurants? Well, perhaps the staff at India Palace took this to heart because holy Shiva did the service SUCK here this evening. I mean from the moment we walked in the door and were forced to hover at the host stand while we were passed over from person to person to seat us. I could overlook that, but here's the Suck Tally:
-we had to ask for them to take our order. After waiting 10 minutes. The K is a lot nicer than me when it comes to this, but I get INSANELY antsy when I'm sitting there waiting to order. We asked and then again were put off to someone else who came over to MAKE SURE we needed to order before telling us she'd be right back. She never came back. Someone else took our order. We never saw him again.
-we had to flag down yet another wait person (there were three in total, which I feel is a fair amount of staff given the small space) for the drinks we ordered after 10 minutes of sitting there. I refer you to the first sentence of this review. Think I could wait another second before having my first sip of wine of the (very stressful and pain filled) week? Think again.
-yes, I'm cranky, it's been established. But we had to ask for napkins two more times. I'm Italian American. I horde napkins. Most Italian Americans horde napkins in their purses, pockets and computer bags. I just put on a jacket that I haven't worn in years. In the pockets: almost disintegrated napkins. Don't look in my glove compartment. I could wipe up an oil spill with the amount of napkins in there. When I ask for napkins, I mean business!
-our food arrived. Hallelujah! Wait a minute, 10.95 for that small dish? Not that I'd want a larger portion, even on a good day. In New York's Indian row, that same dish would have been 5.95, so I don't want to hear anyone bitching about how expensive New York is. Fine, I get that we're not in New York. But 10.95?? Fora small dish of spinach, spices and cubes of cheese. REALLY???
(for the record, I don't use "really?" all that often. It's just super warranted here).
Due to my inability to eat more than 1/4 of the portion, I had to take my food to go. It should be noted that the K who has the stomach size of a (very masculine) bird actually consumed his entire entree (clean plate club FTW). So... for barometric purposes here... Let it be known I normally can eat that bitch under the table!!!!
Anyway, we asked for my food to go and to pay and -no joke- after a significant pause the waitress said, "I can bring you a to-go box but please just go up front to pay. We're SWAMPED here."
"Swamped?" CUE THE MOTHERFUCKING CRICKETS because the swamp was destroyed by Katrina and only the strong have survived.
I will most likely never return here, unless my entire jaw is taken out (and I'm forced to live out the rest of my life in Lawrence because this is the only Indian restaurant in town). I fear for my future feeding tube. read more