An Indian Meal in London: Spiced with 'Thank You's'

We’ve eaten almost all of our meals out here—we don’t have the kitchen or the cookware to make our own meals. Contrary to all the warnings prior to arriving in the UK, the food here in Great Britain has been surprisingly delicious. We’ve eaten at French cafes, Portugese chains, and English pubs. I haven’t had a bad meal yet. Granted, there are some differences: when you order ‘lemonade’, don’t be surprised when a glass of Sprite arrives at your table. A ‘jacket’ on the menu might raise your eyebrows—let me reassure you, they don’t eat articles of clothing here; it’s simply a baked potato.

Last night, we were on the lookout for dinner in the vicinity of our theatre before our show (Philadelphia, Here I Come!—highly recommended by all of us). When we saw the bright red ‘Indian Cuisine’ sign down one street, Annie, Gracie Miller, and I promptly headed towards our first spicy meal in the last month! Madison, a little more hesitant--worried she wouldn’t find a vegetarian meal-- overcame her qualms and decided to join us. Madeline and Stephanie promptly headed off towards the closest reliable chain restaurant.

Upon arriving at said restaurant, we were ushered in by 4 men dressed identically (both in their suits and facial expressions). All 4 of them clustered around excitedly welcoming us--we happened to be the only patrons present at the restaurant. The lucky waiter who served our table managed to field our questions as we muddled through Indian terms foreign to our vocabulary. The first indication that this meal would be full (not just of food, but of priceless interactions) occurred when our smiling waiter brought us our glasses of water. Each of us, in turn, thanked him as he handed out each glass of water. Rather than the typical silent acknowledgement (nod, smile, etc.) or perhaps the more typical indifference, our waiter vocally responded to each ‘thank you’ with a ‘thank you’ of his own. Those math whizzes of you out there (shout out: McKenzie Berg!) might have realized this equals 8 ‘thank you’s’ (over 4 glasses of water in 20 seconds)—and only the water had been served. Much was still in store.

Annie, fascinated by the dynamics of the restaurant, wondered aloud whether it would be culturally acceptable to ask our waiter whether it was a family run business—we had only seen Indians since entering. After realizing that we already had and would continue to experience quite a bit of awkwardness due to our communication issues, she decided she might as well go for it. After we successfully ordered our entrees (this involved quite a few hand gestures and repeated words to ensure we would all receive what we intended. Madison, the lone vegetarian in the group, spent a particularly long time verifying that she was in fact ordering a vegetarian meal.), he was pleasantly surprised by Annie’s questions:

“Is this a family run restaurant?”

“yes, yes it is.”

“oh wow, so you’re all related?”

“uh…….(blank look of confusion…)”

“this is a family run restaurant, right? So all of you are related to one another?”

“uh……no.”

after a little more silence accentuated by his perpetual grin, our conversation continued. Upon discovering that we were from California, he excitedly told us about his interaction with a Texan the previous night. Apparently, a mere 6 year old boy asked for the spiciest item on the menu (Bradley Goodin: he's your soul brother). His night ended in tears. After bonding over this tale (he was thrilled we had heard of Texas, not to mention that Madison actually lives there), he became our devoted friend and explained how he had immigrated from Bangladesh just two years earlier. Meanwhile, you might be picturing something like ‘Jai Ho’ playing in the background. False. “Pirates of the Caribbean’ was the soundtrack to our meal.

Despite the small hindrances, we were excited about our successful interaction. We suddenly realized time was ticking and we had a show to be at! Luckily, our beaming waiter returned with our meals shortly. Keep in mind that each individual meal arrived in multiple dishes…the number of ‘thank you’s’ exchanged by this point is rising exponentially. The first dish he set on the table was an array of all different shapes and types of meat. We were a little confused, though, when he placed it next to Madison's plate. Assuming that he had just mixed up meals (completely understandable after the many communication breakdowns which had already occurred), we all chimed in.  As Madison confirmed that the substances next to her were indeed meat, she attempted to explain to our waiter how she talked about being vegetarian earlier and that’s why she had put forth such an effort to order a vegetarian meal. This interaction concluded with another helpful waiter bustling over to explain that not only had Madison not ordered a vegetarian dish, she had actually gotten the meal with the most variety and quantity of meat.

Thankfully, Annie, Gracie, and I had enough rice and naan to feed Madison. Our meals were incredible, and we were fully satisfied. The dessert came as part of the meal package, and Annie and I eagerly awaited our well-earned Indian dessert. When it finally arrived, we were surprised by a cottage-cheese type substance that tasted a bit like milk. As you might have guessed after yesterday’s post, this included neither of Annie’s two favorite ingredients: bread and chocolate. Despite the surprising dessert, we left the restaurant labeling it as both one of our funniest and best meals yet on England Semester. As we reminisced on our interactions during the walk to the theatre (especially Annie assuming that all the waiters were related), we burst into laughter upon seeing an Indian man waving a sign. After joking with Annie that he also was probably related to our waiters, we began laughing even harder when upon further examination, we realized that his sign was advertising for the one and only Indian restaurant we had just left…