Within You Without You

About a week ago, Treiger announced: "I *need* to learn how to make Indian food."

"Why?" I asked.
"Because it's good."

And that's why he and Allon showed up at Daniel and Yoni's Pad at 6PM yesterday, armed with basmati, garbanzos, coriander, cinnamon, ginger root, green chilies and organic whole milk. They were ready for Indian magic, and all they needed was a kitchen in which to make it.

Four hours later, they were still cooking. Indian food, apparently, takes a while. Especially the cheese. See, they made cheese by curdling the milk with lemon juice. You, in your boorish ignorance, probably think that milk curdles with acid looks gross. Well, it does. It doesn't taste so bad, though, although it isn't really worth waiting 2 hours for it to harden under a weight (in our case, a genetics textbook).

Another think I learned about Indian food is that it needs salt or, if available, MSG. At least it did when I tried it. Allon and Treiger claimed that it had "enough" salt in it already, but I strongly begged to differ. The more salt the better, I always say. As for the MSG, despite a brief misunderstanding about its historical origin, I still see it as both harmless and delicious.

We had a great time eating that food. It tasted great. But I would be remiss if I neglected to mention the nauseating stomachache that beset my innards early this morning. I don't blame the Indian food, though. I blame the coffee I drank that night. I remember now, I remember now, why they call it Night Coffee.