The reason I was looking goats up is because, primarily, I wanted to picture the animal I had the pleasure of consuming this evening. I am working with a car company in Cali and was taken out by some of the engineers and the CTO on the team I am consulting with. I insisted on authentic Indian food. I figured, since I am surrounded by Indians, these guys would know where to go. I love curry of all types.
We ended up at a restaurant called Annapurna. It's not just the name of a mountain, it's also the name of the goddess of food. As my friend and consultee Ravi pointed out to me, Indians have as many gods and goddesses as they have people. Rav gets invited to weddings that last for 3 days. He is on my short list of people to go to India with.
Anyway, Annapurna is full of people less white than me. In fact, I caused a bit of a stir when I walked in. After seating me and my architecture team at the best table, the owner brought a tv out from the back and set it about 5 feet away from me. Rav told me this was a good thing, as it allowed me to watch an Indian movie during the course of my dinner. Full disclosure, I hate tvs.
The movie went as follows:
- beautiful Indian woman dancing while flower petals fall on her - first musical number
- "teleport" to a wedding (Rav explained to me that in Indian movies they employ "teleport" to switch locations - this is because it is assumed most of what happens in an Indian movie is a dream) - musical numbers 2 and 3
- "teleport" to a train - musical number 4 - much rehashing of sentimental train rides at my table, as train rides in India are apparently a spiritual journey
- "teleport" to two guys fighting a la crouching tiger
- "teleport" to the Pyramid of Giza (seriously, could I make this up?) - a woman runs to the pyramid
- "teleport" to a couple in the forest, interspersed with tanks rolling along a runway - by far the strangest scene
- "teleport" to a guy laying on train tracks, except at the last minute the train turns into a ball of fire
- "teleport" to the last musical number where the guy and girl dance as pink rose petals fall on their heads - a popular song is playing and everyone in the restaurant, except for me, is raising their hands and waving them back and forth singing the song - I am counseled by Sri "this is a popular song!" followed by disappointment I haven't heard it played on a radio station in Denver...
I later told Rav that, even with my creative imagination, I could not think of a plot line that would tie the story together. There was a long pause at the table, and then Sri informed me "Eh hem, Indian movies do not have plot lines". Why not just put the dunce cap on me now, "cultural retard".
So, anyway, the restaurant has a specialty meal they make every night. You eat what they've made. and there's no choice inthe matter. There is always a theme to the dinner, tonight's theme was along the lines of some village in southern India, I didn't really follow that part, there was a discussion about the dessert which was a ball of dough filled with, I don't know, molasses and sugar and crack cocaine covered in more sugar and deep fried and boy was it good although unhealthy I'm sure but it was a specialty of the village that was tonight's theme. Anyway, I ended up with some rice that had hot peppers in it, melon, a doughnut made out of lentils and onions, some lentil curry, a hot chili and oil dipping sauce, a coconut based dipping sauce, some crepes made of lentils, and three pieces of meat that were stuck to this spinal thing that was a bone (very recognizable as a spine), and the meat was goat. It was actually very good, and made me realize that the rogan josh I had been eating at Yattra's in Houston was not lamb but goat.
Lying bitches. It was a fun night. And we have a happy hour scheduled for next Friday. Wonder what else these guys have up their sleeve.
