If I could give it thumbs, it would be one thumb pointing left and one thumb pointing right, which would essentially mean nothing.

And yeah, you’re right, I didn’t even think of that until later – they made me pay for rice! The gall.

We were a little taken aback by the guy in full 19th century colonial Indian regalia at the front door (what is this place, Epcot Center?), but the rest of the restaurant seemed nice enough.

But then we got our food, and it tasted like it had come out of a plastic carton. Utterly flavourless. I shudder to think what it would have tasted like if we’d ordered “mild” rather than “medium” spiciness, as the total absence of any spices couldn’t have been made any less spicy. Oh, that, and the Malai Kofta included western style green beans which looked like they’d come from a can. Ugh. This was truly Indian food by non-Indians.

I don’t remember separate pricing for rice and bread, but then again, our favourite carryout place does that. The other thing (which perhaps I learned having parents in the restaurant business) is there’s no such thing as “free” — you pay for all that stuff one way or another, either because they charge you individually for it, or because the entrees are $2 higher, or both. If enough people complained, they might make their rice and naan “free,” but the rest of the prices would go up to compensate.

Anyway, like Keira-Anne, when I saw the title of the post, I was nervouse, thinking, “Oh please let my buddy Raul have the discretion not to have liked that place.” Your taste hasn’t let me down yet.

My two easy favourites in the downtown area are Taste of India at Robson and Jervis or Sitar in Gastown. You can almost never go wrong with either of those.