As I tucked into my delicious Chicken Tikka Masala at last night’s game session, I once again thanked my lucky stars for my gorgeous, half-Indian girlfriend. Despite going to high school in Singapore, with its dizzying array of paneers, masalas and kormas, I lacked the requisite courage and palate to appreciate the tastegasm that is Indian food.
Fortunately, my better half helped change my mind, and we’ve spent the last few years finding and sampling almost every Indian restaurant of note between Hartford and Storrs. So far, Wing Express, right at the University of Connecticut, is up there with the best. Big portions and big flavor with an affordable price tag is hard to beat. I particularly like their lamb curry. Ambassador of India in Glastonbury has a glowing reputation, and it’s food is quite good as well.
We’ve also made forays into cooking ourselves, thanks to my mate’s knowledge and prowess in the kitchen, and my willingness to chop onions. Frequently, we end up adding coconut milk and coconut cream to our curries, making them more Thai than Indian. However, we also make homemade parathas, she rolling the dough and I frying them up with the maximum amount of butter.
Since I formerly considered Cool Ranch Doritoes to be spicy, I’ve also seen a great increase in my enjoyment of all things hot, particularly when I’ve got a nice cold beer to counteract the heat. In short, Indian food is an absolute gastronomic delight, and everyone should be so lucky to have someone to show them just that.