Taste of India – Albuquerque, New Mexico

“Don’t go and cook Indian food if you never cooked Indian food, you know?” ~Wolfgang Puck Those who can’t do, write.  The pan is mightier than the pen. Pick your aphorism.  When it comes to cooking Indian food, both certainly apply in my case.  Every effort to prepare even the most basic of Indian dishes is a painful reminiscence of the Chemistry courses which confounded, confused and frustrated me in equal measure.  Sure, covalent bonds made sense (because they were easy), but the math-based system of writing complex chemical equations may as well have been Klingonese.  So, too, are most recipes for Indian dishes. Yes, a passable phalanx of premixed “instant” Indian food exists, but what’s the fun in preparing that?  Aspiring Indian food cooks (and masochists like me) prefer to prepare everything from scratch.  That includes grinding and roasting ingredients for our own garam masala, an essential Indian spice mix which Epicurious considers “the Indian equivalent of French herbes de Provence or Chinese five-spice powder.”  Somehow, my mix always has the taste appeal of a lethal bleach and ammonia combination.  After years of trial and failure, I’ve arrived at  the painful realization that I may never be able to…

Maharaja Indian Cuisine – Albuquerque, New Mexico

In his Netflix “23 Hours to Kill” special, comedian Jerry Seinfeld posed the question:  “What is the idea of the buffet?  Well, things are bad.  How can we make it worse?  Why don’t we put people that are already struggling with portion control into some kind of debauched Caligula food orgy of unlimited human consumption?”  Frankly, that’s a notion I’ve contemplated myself, but it’s not the only reason I don’t partake of buffets.  As an independent observer of the culinary condition, reviewing buffets–irrespective of how good they might be–is not a true indicator of a restaurant’s quality.   For that, you’ve got to order off the menu. Please don’t get me wrong.  I’m not anti-buffetite.   My Kim loves buffets.  So does our friend John Martin, a fellow trencherman.  During the height of the Cabrona virus, even culinary cognoscenti believed all-you-can-eat buffets were a thing of the past, just like sending Christmas cards.  The more fastidious among us were relieved that sanitation protocols would be the riddance of those too short plexiglass sneeze guards and the sharing of serving sporks and tongs.  Sadly, doing away with buffets–even if only for a short time–resulted in the permanent closure of such buffet favorites as…