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(For SI blog reader Fugitive143)

Eureka!

Yeah, finding an Indian restaurant in New Jersey that serves palatable edible fare is cause for celebration these days.

Such is the severity of the drought that has struck the Indian culinary landscape in these parts.

But boy did we strike gold with iSpice in North Brunswick (on Aaron Rd, off RT-1), New Jersey the other day.

Not only was the food edible but, hey, it was palatable too.

Asli Cheez. The real deal, folks.

Up our gourmand alley. Mostly.

Haiti’s Ghettos
iSpice
is like any other Indian restaurant in New Jersey, i.e. ugly, dark and a no-frills ambiance.

And a dark-skinned waiter who looked like he’d just slumbered out of Haiti’s ghettos.

But the food at iSpice is oh, Tabulicious, if you know what we mean. ;)

Now if you respond to the call of schmuck and don’t know what Tabulicious means, let’s enlighten you. This SI-coined neologism is a synonym for sexy, divine or gorgeous.

iSpice, North Brunswick - Superb Food

Dining Rampage
Much of what we sampled at iSpice was so delicious that, our pulse singing with joy, we went on a rampage.

A dining rampage, that is.

Ironically, our meal at iSpice began on an inauspicious note.

You see, the Chilli Bajji appetizer turned out to be more salty than spicy.

Our anger aroused, we silently hurled vile epithets at the chef. If the morons couldn’t get the simple Mirchi Bajji right WTF are they capable of, we wondered.

Fortunately, our concerns were misplaced given all the treats that followed (including tasty Onion-Spinach Pakoras).

Manna from Heaven
Malai Kabab (minced chicken mixed in onions and bell peppers flavored with ginger and barbecued on skewers.) was a treat worthy of the Mughal emperors.

As our teeth sank into the tender, delicious white Kabab, our thoughts drifted to the years past and the first occasion when our incisors made contact with such soft, fair flesh. ;) Continue reading »

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Say what you will, it’s hard to get close to another desi guy.

No, we don’t mean emotionally but literally (as in physical proximity).

Most desi men smell stink.

Badly.

No question about it.

Don’t believe us?

Go ahead, ask your Caucasian buddy.

The odds are 90 to 1 that your White IT buddy at Morgan Stanley, MetLife or Goldman Sachs will tell you sotto voce that a desi Java programmer’s bad smell arrives a few seconds ahead of the bugs in his application.

Kinda heralds their arrival – Here I come, the stinking offal,the detritus of the third world.

Few White-Desi Hookups
Sneer at us all you want but we think one reason why the pretty White babes don’t come near desi guys is because of their bad odor.

Sure that’s a hypothesis and we confess we don’t have hard data to back us up. But there exists anecdotal evidence or proxy variables to support our argument.

For instance, open the New York Times Sunday matrimonial announcements at the end of the Styles section and you’ll see few desi guys hooking up with the Goris (White girls).

It’s always Ramesh Patel with Sheetal Patel, Mani Shankar Iyer with Meenakshi Ramachandran, Rajesh Yemeneni with Sunita Reddy or Darshan Singh with Priti Singh.

Rarely, rarely do you see Deepak Shah planning to share his future with a Melissa Rivers or a Mani Panchapakesan tying the ‘until death do us part’ knot with a Susan Douglas. :(

In the Air
Just sniff the air and you’ll know you are in the vicinity of a desi.

No kidding. Continue reading »

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