MUCH like everybody else, we have taken to watching the pennies, as well as the pounds, lately.
My dear departed father always used to say, “You only get what you pay for”, and I believe that rule of thumb still exists. In fact, The Boy was only referring to the type of petrol that he has been using in his Fandango GT recently and declared that the supermarket variety is not quite as good as the premium brand he used to obtain just off Burton Road.
Oh, it works all right, it is just he insists that his motorcar feels lethargic and not as lively as before. This is a complaint that I personally have put down to advancing years.
I tried the “You only get…” statement with him and he responded by leaping to his feet, saying, “Stuff it!”, grabbing his keys and disappearing for 20 minutes. He returned with a smile as broad as any I have seen before, informing me that the five-star fuel was back in his tank and that he was happy.
It was with a less resilient budget in mind that The Boy and Yours Truly headed towards The Modern Tandoori in town. You may recall that this is where the lad experienced his St Paul moment and made his rather rapid transition into being an Indian food lover, around three years ago.
After parking around the corner, we made our way into the eatery and obtained a table quite easily, as the place was empty.
Being of contrary mood, I opted for a starter of onion bhaji followed by a vegetable rogan josh. The Boy chose a fish tikka (I did warn him about menus that are aspecific) as his starter, with a main of khoraya lamb in balti style.
Naturally, I could not resist the sag aloo (potatoes cooked with Indian herbs and spices), although I think we made a small error by ordering only one portion of special egg-fried rice. A naan bread apiece, keema for me, because I still felt some need for meat, however sparse, and a peshwari (a slightly sweeter and fruitier alternative) for The Boy.
Needless to say, our table chit-chat surrounded the “You only get…” proposition, when the lad pointed out to me that the peach he grabbed from the top of the fruit bowl at Chez FM the other morning was not very tasty. I suggested that he complain to his mother, as she seems to know about these things. Our starters arrived.
The bhaji was pleasant enough but tasted slightly of burnt oil. It was accompanied by a tasty onion raitha and some fresh salad. The Boy’s tikka spiced fish was an unspecified
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MUCH Like Everybody Else, We Have Taken To Watching The Pennies, As Well As … http://tinyurl.com/4xzt6wh