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himalayan me out flat
06/07/2009 = 09:37 AM

Hindi writing is so pretty.

थाली .

That means "thali," which means one of those round metal trays with eight or nine adorable little cups, each containing a taste of a different dish, from appetizer to dessert, and a neat little stack of round, pita-like bread in the center.

You usually get thali at weddings, and sometimes at Indian restaurants. In this instance, the thali was at a Himalayan place (specifically, Himalayan Cuisine on Flamingo Road) and it was unlimited: a flat rate for all you could eat.

When we got to the restaurant, I saw that they offered a "beer of the month" and pointed it out to That Man of Mine, indicating that I would possibly be interested in trying a new beer.

However, after we were seated and I happened to glance past That Man's shoulder at the beer selection, the server said, "May I bring you a beverage?"

That Man said, "What is the beer of the month?"

I said, "Never mind that, my good man. I see you stock Unibroue on a regular basis. Do you, perchance, have La Fin du Monde?"

Okay, I didn't say it nearly so classily. I believe I might actually have, instead, begun bouncing in my chair, pointing, and saying "Dudedudedude!" to That Man, because he misunderstood and said, "What, you want Maudite?" which, no. Maudite is good, but it was not what I wanted.

I did manage to make myself clear to the server, who brought me my Fin, and a chilled tulip glass, applying the one to the other in a manner such that, by the time the glass was half-filled, I was saying, "Sir, you are my new best friend," and, by the time he had completely topped the glass, allowing for the precise amount of head above the tulip curve, I was explaining to That Man why we now had to bring the hapless fellow home with us.

The thali was presented and conversation ground to a halt, with the exception of That Man's occasional queries as to my well-being and my replies of, "Be quiet; you're spoiling the moment."

I, who have very little appetite, finished off my entire tray, plus That Man's tomatoes. That Man went through two trays (minus tomatoes) and an extra stack of bread.

I believe I may have moaned inappropriately over the combination of delicious flavors and Canadian beer. I hope I didn't offend any of the other patrons. Assuming there were some. I was sort of in my own little world by that point.

However, at about 9:00 pm, long after we'd made our blissed-out way home and settled in, I began to feel distinctly below par, as it were.

(Please note, before you blame this on overdrinking, that I had only had the one Fin, and three glasses of ice water with the meal, plus more when we got home.)

At 2:00 am, after I had been up the better part of the night, I said to That Man, "I'm so miserable. I wanted that to be our new favorite restaurant and now it can't be."

I did, eventually, fall asleep, and now that it's morning and I feel more human, I have amended my evaluation to be, "We can't go there on a weekday, because if the food's going to make me sick, I need a day to recover."

That's how good it was.

Although, in good conscience, I cannot recommend Himalayan Cuisine till I go there again and ascertain whether I was just unwell or if it's a chronic thing with them. I don't want you to get sick.

The sacrifices I make for you.

Because I love you so much.

Tags: thali

drinking: ice water
listening to: Queen, I'm in Love With My Car
feeling: a little better, but shaky in my knees