INDIAN OVEN - FEAR LEADS TO ANGER. ANGER LEADS TO HATE. HATE LEADS TO SUFFERING.
No one would ever look at me and say “That guy looks like a picky eater.” BUT! I hate curry. I hate coconut. I hate chocolate. I hate eggs. I hate cream pies. I hate whip cream. I hate milk. I hate bananas.
I have said all of these things MANY times in my life along with other vile profane hate speech directed at food. The reality is they are not true. Forgive me Julia Child, for I have sinned; I have avoided foods for many years due to lies I have told myself.
When I was a child, I got violently ill after eating chocolate birthday cake. From that day forward, I was “allergic” to chocolate. An overwhelming sadness consumed me during my entire childhood when I would go to a party and chocolate was the only option. In my early teens, I rebelliously tried a peanut M&M. Probably because that green M&M made something inside my pubescent body feel funny. I didn’t die. I didn’t even get sick. I even kind of liked the taste. Over the next few years, I branched out. I experimented here and there. Today, I accept chocolate. I don’t crave it. I don’t seek it out. It is never the first thing I choose from a dessert menu, but I don’t hate it. I have a more positive than negative view of chocolate. I know. I am a freak.
I have the same attitude towards eggs. A childhood experience gone wrong ruined me from eggs for 10 years. I have a texture problem with them. Something about the semi-solid form of the whites triggers my gag reflex. And not in a good way.
These were phobias and decade old truths that I held to my chest like Linus’s blanket. I remedied my aversion to chocolate and eggs before I turned 20, but I held on to the other ones well into adulthood. And then a funny thing happened. For my birthday a few years ago, a friend of ours was in charge of bringing dessert. She brought a coconut cream pie. I panicked. You have to understand; I HATE coconut and cream pies. Like the red hot intensity of 1000 suns. Don’t know where it came from. Probably an ill-fated trip to Furr’s at age 6. But I love my friend. She brought me a thoughtful gift. She had no idea of my illogical fear of a pie. I cannot tell you the emotional tug-of-war for the next 2 hours. I was dreading the time dessert rolled around. After much wine over dinner had kicked in, I had built up a determination to take a couple of polite bites and move on with life. First bite, “HOLY CRAP! Why have you people been hiding this from me my entire life? Who lied to me and told me I didn’t like this? Does other coconut cream pies taste like this or is this an anomaly?” It was delicious. And not just “This is fine and I can power through it,” but “OH MY GOD, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER PIECE?”
I had an epiphany that things I had told myself and others may not be true. My life was a sham. I had lost culinary years avoiding things that I could truly love. I had to charge forth into the food landscape and conquer my demons. When I am presented with a new food experience, I embrace it. I drop all hesitance and dive mouth first into the next adventure. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. But I never abstain. Do I like squid? I don’t know, give me a bite? Delicious. How about crawfish heads? Delectable. Tripe? Not so much. But I tried it and that is the point.
That was a long explanation to get to my internal belief that I hate Indian Food. I tried Thai green curry 15 years ago; “hated” it. Thus the following rationale:
No curry of any description would even touch my lips again
All Indian Food is curry
Thus, I hate Indian Food
It was like a hateful algebra equation.
Then, recently, some friends asked us to join them at Indian Oven. Finally, here is my opportunity to embrace the hate or let it leave my food phobia list. They go on a regular basis so I knew I would have a spotter. Upon arriving, we were given some garlic naan. “Oh my god, this is Indian food?” Many dishes were ordered. Tandoori Salmon, Madras Chicken, Botti Kabab, and Bhindi Masala were placed on the table. Some things looked familiar; botti kabab and the tandoori salmon looked like fajitas. The Bhindi Masala was okra deliciousness. But the Madras Chicken was the tipping point. How can I hate coconut milk and curry and love this dish so much. I could not get enough of that flavor. It was so unfamiliar and slightly spicy and unlike anything I had ever had before. It was a game-changer. After that meal, I had dreams about it. I had to have it over and over. Since that first time, I have tried other curry dishes and loved them. Not just tolerated them, but loved them. Indian Oven is in the regular rotation with all the Mexican and Asian Joints. I have even tried that Thai green curry again. So good.
THE JOINT EXPERIENCE
If you have never been to Indian Oven and are wanting to dip your pinky toe in the curried sauce, be prepared to get SLIGHTLY out of your comfort zone. The first thing you will notice is the fragrance. If you have grown up in Amarillo and never ventured past enchiladas and chicken fried steak, you will take note of the bouquet of spices you have never experienced. It is not unpleasant, just unfamiliar. The second thing that tips you off that you are not at Texas Roadhouse is the background music. It is an Indian pop music that is not disagreeable, but just not the terrible top 40 junk that you hear too loudly in chain restaurants.
Upon opening the menu, you are presented with a list of words that do not resemble anything you are accustomed to. My go-to order is the Madras Chicken, medium spice and an order of garlic naan. Today also included Bhindi Masala. It is okra and a few sautéed onions in a delicious coating. Don’t ask me what’s in it. I have no clue. It is just good.
The Madras Chicken is the star in my book. The spice is just right and mixing it over the provided rice is pure heaven. I would still be eating it if there were more in the bowl. The okra is amazing and the naan is out of this world.
Stop the hate crimes against your palate. Be adventurous. Don’t believe your inner lies. Venture out of your Amarillo Food Rut. If you are that person who hates yourself for going to the same 5 restaurants and never tries anything new, this is a beginner foray: order some samosas, some naan, and some tandoori chicken. It doesn’t get more basic. Or get wacky. Have a vegetarian dish. Have a mango lassi for dessert. Life is short, stop wasting your peak culinary years.
By the way, I still hate bananas.
2406 Paramount Blvd
Amarillo, TX 79109
806-335-3600
Recommended Dishes
Madras Chicken
Bhindi Masala
Garlic Naan & Bullet Naan
