I ate at India Palace for the first time last night.
I've lived here for 21 years and have resisted going because it's in a crumbly, old hotel near the airport. Which isn't appetizing to me in the least.
Even the elevator smelled skanky on the ride up, which almost made me regret my decision.
Once there, we were seated and the amazingness began.
Great view of tiny, blue airport lights.
White tablecloths.
Turbaned waiters.
And then the meal.
It was the most delicious Indian food I've ever eaten.
But wait.....
*TMI ALERT*
Five minutes after leaving the restaurant, I was praying I made it home.
Yup.
Not sure if it was a specific spice, or the special naan, but my gut was not in check. It was rebelling in a big way.
I seriously considered pulling over to a fast food joint on the way. I was mapping out my route, thinking about what was down the road in case I needed to make a pit stop.
I made it home. Barely.
It wasn't pretty.
Needless to say, while I enjoyed the meal, the entire experience has put me off of Indian food until further notice.
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