Our 7th Anniversary Dinner

Yes­ter­day was our 7th wed­ding anniver­sary. We decid­ed to go to an Indi­an restau­rant for our anniver­sary din­ner. There are two Indi­an restau­rants in our town. I couldn’t decide which one to go to (and yes, Troy always makes me make all the hard deci­sions) but then I found out that one of them is closed on Mon­days. Deci­sion-mak­ing avert­ed. YES!

I was starv­ing when we got to the restau­rant because I pur­pose­ly didn’t have any­thing for lunch. I want­ed to max­i­mize my bel­ly capac­i­ty for the good­ness that await­ed me at din­ner. Once again I had to make the tough deci­sion on what to order. I let my grum­bling bel­ly decide and it decid­ed that we have the $80 din­ner-for-two menu instead of the $25 per per­son 3-course din­ner. Bel­ly was hun­gry!

And so it began. For the first round, we were served pap­pad­ums and a tray of dip­ping sauces. Sec­ond round, it was a selec­tion of appe­tiz­ers which includ­ed veg­etable pako­ras, bite-sized chick­en tik­ka and, um, slices of some­thing that might have been an Indi­an-style sausage. Not sure what it’s actu­al­ly called and I’m too lazy to look it up. Third round was the main course. We had but­ter chick­en, some shrimp dish and chick pea cur­ry thing with rice and naan. Halfway through this round, I was full, but I sol­diered on. By the time the third round was over, I was uncom­fort­ably full. So full that it was hard to breathe.

But wait, there’s more! There was a fourth round: dessert. I chose to have some man­go ice cream. Troy chose the pineap­ple sor­bet. I thought noth­ing could make me feel even more uncom­fort­able than I already was, and espe­cial­ly not a bowl of man­go ice cream. Oh, how wrong I was. When it was all over, all I want­ed to do was to lie flat on the couch at home so I could breath easy. I went to the wash­room while Troy was strug­gling to fin­ish his gigan­tic pineap­ple sor­bet (it was lit­er­al­ly the size of half of a pineap­ple) and did both num­ber one and num­ber two, hop­ing that it would release some pres­sure and make me breath eas­i­er. Nope. It didn’t help at all.

When I went back to our table, Troy was still work­ing on his pineap­ple sor­bet. He joked that at least it wasn’t a pump­kin sor­bet because sor­bet the size of half a pump­kin would take even longer to fin­ish. After what felt like hours, Troy fin­ished his dessert and a long while lat­er, we got the bill, paid and went back home. I laid flat on the couch as soon as I got home. Then we watched the lat­est episode of A Game of Thrones. I felt like human again by the end of show. I must say that I don’t quite enjoy feel­ing like an over­stuffed bag of food.

On our 7th anniver­sary, I was con­vinced that death by Indi­an food is a thing.

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