Indian Cuisine, A Taste of the River Ganges, Literally

I do love a good Indian. Tasty, spicy, different, all the things I love, but why does my local Indian takeaway always leave me waking up with the same thought: Oh no…I’ve got…the splats.

So why is it only takeaways that seems to have this disastrous effect on me? I have been to many great Indian restaurants, and have not suffered the same terrible fate.

I think they need to check exactly what they are putting into my Bengali Eggplant with Mustard Seeds and Sag Paneer.

Now, sometimes the splats is worth the tantalisingly delicate flavours and pleasant fragrances an Indian has to offer, even the ring of fire.? I can just about cope with, safe in the knowledge that I dominated that king prawn vindaloo the night before. What I can’t deal with is Salmonella.

No tasty tangy treat is worth the midnight sweats and the calling of God down the big white telephone. Add to that feeling of being booted in the stomach and suddenly the lure of the Chana Masala isn’t so inviting.

It does leave you with an interesting predicament, spit or swallow?

Written by PuppyDeath on November 26th, 2007 with 2 comments.
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