So, I've been trying to get a new post up for quite a while. I know. It's nothing new, me dropping out of the blogging world for a month. But this time I have a legitimate excuse. The mother of all excuses. My mom was hospitalized during a stroke, and she hung on for a month before she passed away. So, I spent all of May - except for one week in Florida.
So, I'd been pretty much cut off from the world, not much TV, no internet, no news...
But I had to eat, even though often I did not feel like it.
I'm not going to bog you guys down with too many details of my mom's demise and my family drama. That's fodder for perhaps another blog. Let's just look at food, shall we?
So, here's my nephew and his butter chicken. This was at Cafe Roti, the indian restaurant across the street from the hospital. This one has a good backstory, actually. My mom was in ICU, and there was a 7pm - 9pm shift change when visitors were not allowed. So my sis and my nephew, my dad and me were walking down to the lobby. My dad is very hard of hearing, old, oh, and he doesn't like his daughters. So he said he was going somewhere, and he would be back at 9. My sis and I had no car. My dad had another car parked in the grass behind my parents' house, that supposedly only needed to be jumped. I asked him if we could go jump the car, and he started yelling at us about how he couldn't be with us 24-7. Which we were trying to explain if we had our own car, he wouldn't have to be. But, it was an embarassing scene in the hospital where my mom once worked, so my sis and I decided to walk out and go somewhere nearby to eat. So we went to the indian restaurant.
So, my nephew is adorable. But he did not want to be in that indian restaurant. Too boring, too quiet, no bed for nappy time? I don't know why. But we got to eat a little before he started screaming and crying at the top of his lungs, so my sis had to take him outside.
So here's the naan bread, which was nice and light and warm.
Here's the samosa, which was really good. I don't know why they had to put it on a bed of slaw mix veggies though. I got to hear the server say a couple times how she recommended it to every table. She said that when the place first opened the samosas were smaller or something, and they were terrible. She suggested they change the recipe, and then they became delicious. No comment there.
Here's the lamb and spinach. It was okay. I was starving, so at the time I gobbled it up. Until the terrible toddler started screaming. So I had a few more bites then had the food packed up. I felt so bad for this one table that had been there all through the tantrum, that I bought them a round of beers. That's what I would want someone to do if their kid had ruined my dining experience. Then again, that's probably part of why I don't have kids.
So, we walked back to the hospital and went back up to the waiting room. My dad was there, and he pointed an accusatory arthritic finger at me, and said, "when you parked the car, you parked it in a physician's space, and it is towed." I was confused, and puzzled. I didn't remember parking in an illegal space. I was confused and tired, not mentally sharp. But I thought only the ground floor spaces were physician's spaces. So, then I thought, he just lost the car. So, I said I'd go look for it. Of course he had to come with me. We went to the 2nd floor. There it was where we left it. And then I remembered - I hadn't driven. My dad had. He had parked the car there. But as soon as he lost it, thinking it was towed, he remembered me driving it and parking it illegally. That's how his mind works. I figured this was going to be a long week. I didn't even know a fraction of it.
So, I'd been pretty much cut off from the world, not much TV, no internet, no news...
But I had to eat, even though often I did not feel like it.
I'm not going to bog you guys down with too many details of my mom's demise and my family drama. That's fodder for perhaps another blog. Let's just look at food, shall we?
So, here's my nephew and his butter chicken. This was at Cafe Roti, the indian restaurant across the street from the hospital. This one has a good backstory, actually. My mom was in ICU, and there was a 7pm - 9pm shift change when visitors were not allowed. So my sis and my nephew, my dad and me were walking down to the lobby. My dad is very hard of hearing, old, oh, and he doesn't like his daughters. So he said he was going somewhere, and he would be back at 9. My sis and I had no car. My dad had another car parked in the grass behind my parents' house, that supposedly only needed to be jumped. I asked him if we could go jump the car, and he started yelling at us about how he couldn't be with us 24-7. Which we were trying to explain if we had our own car, he wouldn't have to be. But, it was an embarassing scene in the hospital where my mom once worked, so my sis and I decided to walk out and go somewhere nearby to eat. So we went to the indian restaurant.
So, my nephew is adorable. But he did not want to be in that indian restaurant. Too boring, too quiet, no bed for nappy time? I don't know why. But we got to eat a little before he started screaming and crying at the top of his lungs, so my sis had to take him outside.
So here's the naan bread, which was nice and light and warm.
Here's the samosa, which was really good. I don't know why they had to put it on a bed of slaw mix veggies though. I got to hear the server say a couple times how she recommended it to every table. She said that when the place first opened the samosas were smaller or something, and they were terrible. She suggested they change the recipe, and then they became delicious. No comment there.
Here's the lamb and spinach. It was okay. I was starving, so at the time I gobbled it up. Until the terrible toddler started screaming. So I had a few more bites then had the food packed up. I felt so bad for this one table that had been there all through the tantrum, that I bought them a round of beers. That's what I would want someone to do if their kid had ruined my dining experience. Then again, that's probably part of why I don't have kids.
So, we walked back to the hospital and went back up to the waiting room. My dad was there, and he pointed an accusatory arthritic finger at me, and said, "when you parked the car, you parked it in a physician's space, and it is towed." I was confused, and puzzled. I didn't remember parking in an illegal space. I was confused and tired, not mentally sharp. But I thought only the ground floor spaces were physician's spaces. So, then I thought, he just lost the car. So, I said I'd go look for it. Of course he had to come with me. We went to the 2nd floor. There it was where we left it. And then I remembered - I hadn't driven. My dad had. He had parked the car there. But as soon as he lost it, thinking it was towed, he remembered me driving it and parking it illegally. That's how his mind works. I figured this was going to be a long week. I didn't even know a fraction of it.
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