India Palace

Having just obtained scriptures for the Bodhisattva, we were quite famished, and although I had transcended the need for the pleasures of food I thought a treat may have been in order. Seeing an Indian food restaurant nearby, my companion lowered us down upon his mystic cloud that we might dine. "India Palace!" My excitable companion exclaimed, "Truly a place for the likes of us!"

This place was neither a palace nor India. These are two incongruities that made me wonder if we'd been had. There was a light facade of Indianess cluttering the walls. Decorative wood panels covered the windows and various paintings describing what I can only imagine as traditional Indian pastimes and poses covered otherwise unimaginative walls. The architecture, if stripped bare of its decoration would suggest the site was a Perkins reincarnated as an ethnic food restaurant. This seam in the appearance would cause an uncomfortable incongruity in people who notice and care about that sort of thing.

I didn't.

The server had a certain ineptitude that suggested he achieved his position through family or ethnicity rather than any skill or desire to be a waiter. For example, when my companion asked what the waiter would recommend the waiter said, "Take all the time you need." He then departed promptly. Also, several times he attempted to place dishes on the table without removing used plates. This was problematic, as the table was not large enough to accommodate both.

The food was good. All of it was very mildly spiced, but what it lacked in robust flavor it made up for in complexity and delightful subtlety. The appetizers were all fried, featuring potatoes, peas, cheese, and breaded meat. All were very good. The main dishes were slightly more complex, although my companion's looked like, in his words, "Goose shit." (It was meat in a stewed spinach, I could not disagree with his assessment.)

One disappointment with the flavor is that although we had asked for "Hot" level spiciness, barely any heat presented itself. I guess they figured we were foolish Minnesotans who don't know how to handle themselves.

Nothing was spectacular, but it was good and presumably authentic. I'm not sure if I would bother again.

My companion did have one question which still haunts me-

"Why do they serve beef?"