Ever since reading about La Diva Cucina's fabulous Bollywood feast, I'd been craving the spicy, cheesy, deeply green miracle that is saag paneer. Sadly, satisfying that craving in my neck of the woods is not an easy thing. There are but three Indian restaurants here, and of the three, only one is worth visiting. Add to that Mr. Junkie's disdain for anything other than charred bovine flesh and well, you get the picture.
Yesterday afternoon, however, something unexpected occurred. "I'm craving saag paneer." I told Mr. Junkie, assuming he would immediately offer up a compromise that involved large slabs of grilled beef. "Let's go." he said. I tried to appear composed as I darted for the shower, vaulting over the dog on the way. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Yes." I threw on my clothes and hopped in the car. As we drove, I imagined the hot fragrant saag, spicy lamb vindaloo, buttery naan and cooling mango lassi that had been unexpectedly granted me.
"They're closed." Mr. Junkie stated matter-of-factly. How could he be so calm?!? "They're what??" I was absolutely crestfallen. There is nothing worse than a craving that cannot be satisfied. "Closed. Want to grab a steak?" Now, don't get me wrong. I love a good steak as much as the next carnivore. But it just didn't sound good. "No" I replied. "No steak". "What then?" asked my curiously affable spousal unit. Hmmmm...what then indeed. We were within a stones throw of fairly decent sushi, Mexican, Chinese and Cajun, but none of those inspired the longing that the saag paneer had. Italian? Barbecue? No lightning bolts. Then it hit me - in an earlier conversation with Shamu, she mentioned that she had eaten fish and chips for lunch. My boat was once again beginning to float. It may not be saag paneer, but being able to adapt on the fly is a good thing, right? Adapt, survive, conquer. "Point this buggy downtown" I said. "Sure. Where are we going?" "Quinn's" I replied with conviction. "I'm craving fish and chips..."
