Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Curry Hill

There is a place in Murray Hill that is known for all the Indian and Pakistani fare within its boarders. It is called Curry Hill. Despite the fact that I love Indian food like no other (it is my go to hangover cure, along with Chinese), I have never walked the few blocks to this hood. So, I did with my friend YumYum.

YumYum looooves her food. She is up on all the places to eat. Your price range does not matter. If you tell her, she will find it. She is a foodie to the extreme, and I, thankfully, get to reap all the benefits.


We had to get some items for her bridal shower and headed to Kalustyan's. YumYum said this place would blow my mind. I thought she was rockin' some serious hyperbole. She was not.


This place is three floors of spices from all over the world and some house blends. I don't even know what you could cook with some of them. Don't forget the tea and coffee. Lots of tea and coffee. There was also a deli counter with Middle Eastern foods. And this is when the men start flirting. YumYum was armed with her engagement ring to scare them off, but I had no such luck. We were wooed with samples of who knows what deliciousness. Good for the pocketbook, but not so good for the waistline. Certainly better than some finance douche trying to hit on you at a bar, right? Hey, babe. I work at [generic bank/hedge fund/grading company]. I own 500 variations on blue plaid. Don't step on my Sperry Top Siders. Bro.


Post groceries, we bopped across the street to Lahori Kabab. We had planned to have actual dinner, but our (my) courtship left us a little full. Still, we persevered and decided to split a plate - one meat, one vegetarian, some naan, rice, and a chicken filled bread thing.


I don't know what the hell this thing was. It was like a curried calzone with no sauce. I also have no idea what the main dishes were that we got. Ordering was pointing at things and nodding or shaking your head based on the guy at the counter's line of sight. I will say, that shit was spicy like whoa.


I couldn't tell what country's restaurant we were in. There was some channel on TV that was not in English. SOOO context clues. Music videos. Nope. Ashes 2013 results (cricket - which, hello, cricket players. They're all hot. And play in all white and sweaters. And are tall and beautiful, regardless of country of origin. It's like it's a prerequisite. I'm in. Sold.) But, yeah, cricket, no help. All that tells me is that Country X was formerly part of the empire - and lost due to being too busy having high tea. Then, cue clarity. It was cab turn over time and the place got packed. The programming changed. Time for prayers. AND WE HAVE A WINNER! Pakistani, for sure. Nobody prayed though. I think they were too hungry? All I'm saying is that fact shouldn't bother you.

I'd say try both out.  They're well worth the experiences. Lahori Kebab is not fine dining, so be prepared for that. You may be a little disoriented, but that's what life is all about.

No comments:

Post a Comment