Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Ok, admittedly this post is well past due. In fact it's so completely irrelevant at this point that I shouldn't even bother. But I feel compelled to unburden myself about this place. Brick Lane is an unassuming Indian restaurant located on tree lined East Village street that's teeming with Indian Restaurants. The reason their fifteen minutes have been counting down as of late is solely attributable to it's curry which is reputed to be the hottest in the world, or some shit like that. If you've watch shows like Man vs. Food and you've seen the Brick Lane episode, you've no doubt seen cooks wearing respirators and goggles looking like their about to give someone a Silkwood shower. Did I just drop an obscure film reference in your lap? Yes I did and I fucking nailed it. Anyway, the curry is called Phaal and there's even a touch of side show gamesmanship involved in the ordering process. Those ordering Phaal must verbally consent to the fact that it's "hot" and you know it can make your mouth feel mol-tanic. If you can actually eat an order of Phaal you get a beer on the house. I went in expecting to have an epic experience worthy of a small one act play. A play about a man and his curry and the human condition. Instead upon ordering the dish that I had traveled 3000 miles just to try the waiter came very close to crumpling up his apron and walking off the job right then and there. "Ugh, oh no not the Phaal" he said dejectedly. He kept trying to steer me away from the Phaal and when I held firm, resolute in my convictions "no sir, I believe I will have- the Phaal" he simply had had enough. I never was asked to assume any and all responsibilities for making the attempt. Clearly my advanced case of "tourism" had ruined his night. No matter what happened, I would not be receiving my free beer. His assertion was that with the curry being so spicy it's just not possible to really taste the food. To me if that's the case then why have it on the menu in the first place? Once I actually tried the curry I instantly became depressed. Don 't get me wrong it wasn't bad, it's just that it wasn't that hot. The Nan was rad but seriously the Phaal was, wait for it, a fail. I actually wasn;t able to finish the dish but not because of the scoville rating but rather because I don't have the wear with all to eat a ton of food at once. I buckled under the pressure. Oh yeah did I mention that Phaal costs about $18? Yeah, no shit it's way pricy, even by New York standards. I think all the fame has gone to their heads. They can Phaalk off! Oh man, I am killing it with the curry puns.
The Spice must flow....................Just not from our arses.
Posted by Spice Odyssey at 12:59 AM