Indian buffet

Ah, the sweet taste of an Aroma Indian buffet....it completely negates the effects of a morning run, but who cares? That's what foodies exercise for, so we can eat more, of course. Fuck fitness, I like a full plate.

That's exactly what I get at my local fave, Aroma in Shirlington. I allow myself one, just one, extremely full plate of everything on display. In my husband's case, it's three full plates, packed with vegetable fritters, korma matteer, butter chicken masala (you have to love the name butter chicken alone, for the rich oiliness it conveys), lamb rogan josh, vegetable pilaf, tandoori chicken, cucumber raita, and various salads and veggies avec sauce (those I tend to take in smaller portions....no need to waste precious plate space on salad). If they have gulab jamun for dessert, we are transported into a blissful sugar induced daze. (Gulab jamun being sweetened condensed milk enriched balls, somewhat like doughnut holes but denser, floating in sweet, rosewater scented syrup--they are better than they sound, a sensual treat on the tongue.)

So we indulge in the full on lunch buffet, thinking ourselves quite diet conscious for not getting beer along with all that spicy, sauce laden meat (okay, there were a few vegetables swimming around there, too). We stick to iced tea and are sure to make up for any calorie deficit by getting extra portions of their thin, crisp, very fresh naan bread, convenient for soaking up any extra masala sauce. Patrick, my love and constant dining companion, has found that fingers coated in butter chicken masala are also quite tasty once the naan runs out.

Bellies gently stuffed, we generally waddle over to the wine shop, the Curious Grape, for a tasting of whatever yummy stuff they have out on any given day. There's nothing quite like chasing a spicy Indian lunch with a nice chilled shot of barely sweet Riesling on a hot summer's day. Consequently, we usually get seduced into buying a bottle or two of whatever we've just tasted and enjoyed, but that's the price you pay for the chance to taste a rich ruby Spanish tempranillo or a citrusy Chilean sauvignon blanc you normally wouldn't buy. Then again, who minds being seduced once in awhile? Sometimes it just feels right to give in to temptation.

Follow all this with one of the semi-arty movies at the nearby theater, as your food slowly settles in and digests, your newly purchased wine bottles at your feet awaiting an evening's sampling, and you find yourself in a very comfortable place. I squeeze Patrick's arm as the lights dim and I burp gently, scenting the air around me with cumin and settling down into my seat. This is my idea of a food adventure.