August 23rd, 2004

flavored with age

Oh, my aching intestinal lining

Last night we took Lara to dinner for her birthday, and ended up eating at a new Indian restaurant in Lincoln Square called essence of India. I ordered the prawns vindaloo, and while they were mouthwateringly delicious, they were, without exaggeration, the hottest fucking things I have ever eaten in my life. I say this not lightly: I say this as a man who has routinely visited the Indian food emporia of Chicago's Devon Avenue for over a decade, and have never blanched at the heavy deployment of spices. But I am telling you, this fucking vindaloo was insane. I had to steel myself for every bite, and I'm pretty sure that at one point I covered my mouth with my shirt and my tongue burned a hole through the fabric.