Monday, January 04, 2010

Crocodile tears

I've had pneumonia for the last 3 weeks. On my second lot of antibiotics, the rot seems to have stopped and I am actually improving now which makes for a nice change. Once again however I am at the mercy of medication which I take 4 times a day and which must be followed by food an hour later. I tried to do it without the food and oh boy did I feel bad. So food it is, every six hours. Unable to taste anything since well before Christmas I've only been eating the barest minimum of a fairly boring diet of ham sandwiches, jelly and fruit, ice cream and the odd oven chip when WH has been catering for himself.

I've not been up to cooking, the last time I did cook was Boxing Day. So on Saturday WH really did fancy something different and something that he didn't have to provide himself so suggested an Indian meal. I remembered that we had had a new takeaway open in a neighbouring village last autumn, their menu had looked anything but the usual run of the mill and what is more they offered free delivery up to a mile radius. WH left the ordering to me, not a brilliant move as I have very little voice right now and they did have somewhat of a problem understanding me, but he was hospital visiting yet again, so I made the best of it and hoped.

Twenty minutes late the door bell rang and a charming chap whom I vaguely recognised apologised for the delay, reduced the bill and gave me a free bottle of wine, a perfectly respectable Pinot Grigio. By now we were both hungry, my meds had been taken almost 2 hours before and the need for food was getting urgent.

Wow, what food. Loads of it, nicely presented and with extras, always a good sign. It made up for the late delivery but as it was icy and snowy I certainly wasn't about to complain. I opened with seek kebab, it was manna from heaven, came with a really different dressing and a tub of green salad. WH had opted for Onion bhaji, a predictably mild choice (as expected really) but pronounced them gorgeous. For his main he had Tandoori chicken, a huge chicken half with a massive side salad and sauce and a stuffed kheema nan which was light, fluffy and full of spicy lamb. I didn't want a whole main course so had opted for another starter, one I had never heard of before, Chicken Crocodile Tears which according to the menu is apparently a Bangladeshi speciality, cubed, marinated and grilled chicken with roasted veggies in a pineapple sauce. To say it blew me away was the understatement of the century. It was divine. Maybe my taste buds had burst back into life at that precise moment, I don't know but whatever, it was the best Indian meal I've ever eaten. The 'free' popadoms with chutney were great too, the wine will have to wait until I'm off the meds.


One thing is for sure, my new year's resolution is to order Crocodile Tears from that place again (and again and again)!