I mean, who doesn't like some good curry?
Wasn't that a great hook? I've been working on that, thanks for noticing.
I love the West Indies. That's where I went on my mission, and a piece of my heart will always be there. Not literally, of course. When good old Columbus came to this side of the world, he thought that he had found India, so he called it the West Indies. Ironically enough, literal Indians left their homeland in the 1800's to find work in the lower Caribbean and South America. They brought themselves, their religions, and their cooking prowess. However, after 100+ years there is bound to be a little food apostasy. That's where last Friday began.
The Bombay House is supposed to be this way tasty, authentic Indian Restaurant. Well, I've eaten Indian food for the past two years, so I already went inside knowing what I wanted. I got the menu and was happy to see that I recognized most of the names. Roti, Aloo, Daal, Etc... Needless to say, I was confident in my ordering. Our waiter complimented me on that; he said that I sounded like a pro. Score. When our food finally arrived, I didn't recognize it. It tasted familiar, but far from my beloved truth. Maybe I need to send some Trinidadians to teach those Indians how to cook.
Hey, easy on the Masala, buddy.
No kidding. I find it interesting that for being a country that prides itself on being a melting pot and having so many different cultures we can't seem to get foreign food correct. Maybe we should start paying chefs from across the world to come and live in America so we can fix this big problem.
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