Another "Why do I do this to myself" moment.
In lieu of a review of the neo-bobo-Canalside-Indian, here are a few of my iPhone notes taken down during last night's dinner:
Dishes come too quickly, definitely reheated.
More APC per square inch than an architect's office
Sneaking suspicion the basmati rice was that Uncle Ben's stuff you find on Monoprix shelves
Amy Winehouse on loop
Tired bobos with funky beards and vintage glasses desperately looking for the exotic
People tripping over the carpet every four seconds
Annoying and pervasive loud crowd murmur
I wanted to like it as it's in my hood, has a cozy deco and seems to be busy every night. But, as soon as I took in the ambiance and food I knew it was all going south...