Due to our mutually insane schedules, Andrew and I seem to have settled on a bit of a date night on Tuesday evenings. This is the one week-night that google calendar has allowed us to meet. We both rely on google calendar and would possibly be lost without it, so when it tells us to do something, we tend to willingly comply (there's a lot of fear surrounding the consequences of insubordination - I mean, this is google we're talking about). Which is good, because left to our own devices, we may never see each other. We both have our nutso schedules to balance with our on "quirks" about schedule management: his maybe involving some hyperbolic discounting about transitions between one task and the next, and mine being that I'm crazy! To elaborate, I'm obsessed with planning out at least one mutually acceptable schedule and perhaps two or three alternates, meaning that I both need to know what's going on with anyone else involved at all times, that if something isn't working according to schedule, I will scrap it and go with another alternately planned schedule and that I will inflate the predicted amount of time to do anything by about 40% "just to be safe," largely in order to maintain the small smidgen of highly valued down time (alone time recharging my introvert batteries).
Google calendars is our friend, because it tells us to be somewhere and we will be there. Without it, I would be "somewhere" two hours early, Andrew would be there about two hours late... and we just might miss each other. Plus it satisfies my planning itch and allows me quick and easy access to all relevant schedules that need balancing. I scour my mind for restaurants before setting up a google invitation (and yes, I've threatened that one day when we're a busy yuppie couple, I will start making google events for days in the future that say things like "sexual intercourse" and send him an invite from my android to his blackberry as we sit in separate corners of the room doing at-home work that is no longer homework).
This week, I had to buy this particular kind of tofu that only Trader Joe's (and only the TJ's in the U district) seems to sell (yuppie-in-training, leave me alone!), so I thought I would scour in that area and decided on a place I'd passed many times while walking from his house to school:
The Ultimate Indian Food Experience! I mean, I'm not sure if that's attractive or terrifying, but it's definitely intriguing. Does it mean our last food experience due to poisins in the food? Is the food so exquisite that we will never be able to eat imitators again? Hopefully at least there will be bollywood music and those ever so delightful indian spices (I really feel that indian culture has pretty much the final word in how to spice food and nobody will come close). Will we be invaded by Mongols and live under the Moghul Empire? Will there be tigers??? It's intriguing enough.
Bombay Grill is a few blocks down in a bit of a rundown area surrounded by vacant lots, used-bookstores, and expensive car shops. In terms of providing a pleasant dining experience Bombay Grill had its work cut out for it. Andrew was tired after working on Monday Night RAW (yes, this is the coolest thing ever) before a regular schoolday and I was a walking midol commercial. I would say, based on my particularized tastes, that it completely came through for me and is ascending the "awesome restaurants of Seattle" mental list pretty quickly. It is totally awesome in that slightly off way that only totally awesome restaurants can ever be.
The atmosphere is a little bit of everything. The place looks a touch like an abandoned church, a touch like a cheap tourist hotel I might have stayed in while in Morocco and a little more like a lounge you might go to early in the an evening of vacation-related drinking. There are fake palm trees, little wood detailings, lanterns, flea sale paintings, and a HUGE amount of excess capacity.
Our waiter was super nice and attentive and they gave us hot towels at the end of the meal, which made me feel like I was on a Transatlantic flight. The prices were decent. My meal came in at around 7 dollars, anyways. Oh and since nobody was in there, we were left with the lulling tones of a bollywood cover of Besame Mucho, which definitely enhances the claim of Ultimate Indian Dining somewhat! No tigers and no death, but definitely lifted the mood a bit and sparked me up with some of those spicy stars.
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