Cafe Bombay

Today, we are reviewing a restaurant called Cafe Bombay.  It is an Indian place on Briarcliff Road, near N. Druid Hills Road.  I dined here with the now ex, and sadly, this experience may well have been the catalyst for the prefix "ex"now applied. 

I like good service, just like anyone else.  But, I have to say, I never expect hurried or rushed waiters at an Indian restaurant.  It is usually pretty laid back.  And such was the case with this place.  I was quite happy with being seated immediately; the place wasn't packed.  The interior was slightly dimly lit and warm, friendly and inviting.  We sat and were not waited on for a few minutes.  Our waiter (clearly not part of the Indian theme going on) had a little bit of an attitude, I sensed.  Oz ordered a dry, dirty martini with no olives.  I decided I was too tired to drink, so just stuck with water.

We asked the waiter what he would recommend and his sass-filled answer was, "Well, depends what you like." So I said I like chicken and he pointed out a few dishes.  I chose Chicken Vindaloo.  Oz also asked for a recommendation and after confirming he liked spinach, ended up with Saag something... I am not sure if it was Saag Paneer or something else, but possibly.  

Oz's drink was brought out a little later (okay, even I thought it was a little slow in coming out).  He was already agitated at this point, so when he sipped his drink, I think it just put him over the top.  Dry martini means no vermouth.  Dirty martini means extra olive juice.  This was not a dry, dirty martini, and I can attest to that.  So he brought the waiter over and unfortunately, the waiter chose the wrong person with who to argue.  Oz knows his drinks.  The waiter stated that dry meant extra vermouth and dirty?  Well you didn't want any olives.  Oz finally just said, I want vodka with olive juice.  The waiter: We don't have olive juice.  Oz: Well how were you going to make a dirty martini.  Waiter: Well you didn't want any olives.   Oz just said forget it, that he would drink whatever he had been made. 

Shortly after, the food arrived but Oz was so agitated he demanded that we get it to go and leave.  Sigh.  There went my nice, spur of the moment, hey, I want to take you out to dinner....

But the story isn't so much about Oz as it is about the food.  The food was phenomenal!  I personally don't believe you go to an Indian restaurant for a dry, dirty martini....stay in Buckhead if that is what you want.  But you do go for the food, and it was really, really good.  I will definitely go back to Cafe Bombay, sans Oz.  And hopefully they will have replaced the waiter, who graciously (after first running the bill with the drink) ran the bill without the drink, since we "hadn't been satisfied with it."  

The Chicken Vindaloo was very spicy, as I had wanted it to be, and Oz eagerly ate his Saag something... and even after his little grinch moment, agreed that perhaps he would go back for take out.