After hearing favorable comments about India House, on Rt. 9A in Montrose, NY, my wife and I decided to try it again on Monday. We'd had a lousy meal there several years back, which ranged from bland, oily baingan bharta to dried-out ras malai.
Knowing that Valentine's Day can be a busy night, I called ahead and had the following conversation.
"Hello, India House."
"Hi! You're open tonight?"
"Yes, we are."
"Will you have any trouble seating two adults with a baby?"
"We'll be there in fifteen minutes".
And we were, to find the parking lot full to overflowing and a line of people waiting for tables.
I don't care if they have the best food in North America: I don't need restaurants that lie to me. To hell with them.
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