striking out at electric lotus

oh how i do love indian food. except when it's indian food that evokes nights out at the ball game.

some of you know exactly what i'm talking about. you order chicken tikka masala, a standard dish, expecting that familiar combination of spices to work its seduction in your head, in your mouth. indeed, you've been craving the cascade of flavor the entire day only to be swept away by disappointment and jettisoned off the edge of regret.

i don't know if it's from inferior cuts of meat, something gone wrong during preparation of the sauce, or what, but chicken tikka masala should in no way whatsoever remind you of -- hot dogs. otherwise slap that slop onto a bun, serve it up at a cleveland vs. l.a. night and call it gourmet fusion gone wrong. cause it sure ain't what i wanted. which is a pity because the other times i've gone to electric lotus it's hit the spot. it's never knocked one out of the park, but it could certainly be counted on for a single or ground rule double.

the saving grace is that the music is generally up to snuff. not much solace, i know. afterall, i didn't come to feed on the tunes, tasty as they were.

ah well...

the other nice thing was that i didn't have to pay. MPP was nice enough to treat everyone to lunch. now that's taking one for the team.