one friday night at the tikka house

As some faithful readers may know, I am addicted to Indian food. One of the places I feed my fix is along Gerrard Street, usually at Udupi Palace or one of the Siddharthas. It may come as a surprise to some that one place I hadn't ventured into until recently was the eternally-under-construction Lahore Tikka House.

The main reason that I had never settled into one of their outside picnic tables or whatever form the building was in was that it didn't appear to be a spot suited for solo dining. All I ever saw were large groups passing around dishes and figured there probably weren't any set dinners for one. One Friday night, my current partner-in-crime and I pondered nearby spots to go and she remembered that I had never been in Lahore Tikka—why not tonight?

We ate in one of the trailers attached to the main building. Colourful linens were hung on the wall to liven up the 70s-style wall paneling. We sat side by side to stay out of the way of the sizzling platters for other diners that passed by the other side of table.

The menu doubled as a scorecard to hand back to the waiter. We checked off karahi chicken (pictured at top), plain rice, Lahori lamb kabab (picture above), samosas, naan, saag paneer and a long stick of almond kulfi ideal for two. The meal was a tasty one, though some dishes left worrisome oil slicks on our paper plates. Neither of us suffered any ill effects later on.

Going to the washroom was an eye-opener. The trek involved a flight down a narrow set of steps, a stroll past the kitchen and a sharp turn or two before reaching the opulent facilities. The washroom felt too spiffy to be heeding the call of nature. Just another odd piece in the complex's puzzle.