Why do I feel like I'm having deja vu? Because this meal was FUCKING MISERABLE IN EVERY POSSIBLE WAY. Allow me to elaborate....
What is it? - It's the 'Mix Grill' at Williamsburg's Spice Garden, mere blocks from my apartment. The meats in question are (allegedly) chicken, lamb, and the tragically unspecific "seafood." Bleccch.
What led you to choose this particular restaurant and these items? - There isn't much decent Indian food in Williamsburg, and with me recently adding more bullshit restrictions to my already ultra-healthy diet, I'm pretty much down to proteins, grilled veg, and salads if I want to eat out these days.
Also, I'd had decent luck with Spice Village the one previous time I'd eaten their food, when I ordered delivery a couple winters ago. The portions weren't that great, but the flavor was good... but yeah, who knows what the fuck went wrong in the interim.
How was the food? - Slow to arrive, lacking in flavor, and, as it turned out, actually rotten. Let's take this one from the top.
I should've known better when I walked in for a late lunch and the place was totally empty. The waiter seemed somewhat surprised to see a customer, and with good reason - I wound up spending well over an hour in this shithole and not a single other paying customer ever showed up.
I was interested in the 'Mix Grill' entree, although I wanted to switch out the rice in favor of a side salad (in the name of carb avoidance), which the waiter agreed to do. Then began the waiting game. I have no earthly clue what the cooks were doing during the 30+ minutes it took for me to be delivered my meal (remember - I'm the only fucking customer in this place!) but it sure wasn't "cooking my food" - more on that later.
The chicken was flavorless and obviously not fresh, the lamb had all the succulence of gas station jerky, and the unidentified "seafood" lumps, not surprisingly, tasted like unidentified "seafood" lumps should be expected to taste. And tender they were not. The table knife from my place setting didn't stand a chance of winning this battle, especially vis-a-vis the lamb. I tried to get the waiter's attention with a subtle hand wave, but he was way too engrossed in his phone conversation to give a shit. I finally called out "hey you got a sharper knife?" Without missing a beat - and without stopping his incredibly important phone conversation - he handed me a similar knife from a neighboring table. "No, this is the same thing," I complained, to which he replied "you want... other knife?" "I want something that can actually cut through this meat. This knife ain't doin' the trick." "Um, we do not have." Super!
By this point I just wanted to get through the meal and beat a hasty retreat, a plan thwarted when I realized that not all of the pieces had been adequately heated. *Shudder* Again, more inconspicuous techniques aimed at getting the waiter's attention proved fruitless - must've been one hell of a fascinating conversation this guy was having! - so I finally barked out "dude, this shit's all cold!" which brought him over to my table. (No apology, from the chump, but I'll live.) He hauled my dish into the kitchen and within a few seconds I heard the telltale sound of food being dumped into a hot pan. "Prepared in a Tandoori oven," my ass.
Few minutes later I was re-served my now re-re-reheated meat bits. Some were warmer than when I complained; many weren't. Of course, I should've cut bait and walked the fuck out, but instead I just emptied out the chutney containers up top of the meal and soldiered on. Bad idea.
At long last, I had choked down the final hunk of god knows what, so I paid and left. Moments after exiting Spice Village, I felt my stomach rumble and my lower intestine shudder. "My god, I'm going to shit my pants!" Turns out eating old, improperly heated meat can really do a number on the old digestive system. Who knew! <facepalm> I clenched my buttcheeks together and picked up the pace, eventually accelerating into a full sprint over the last few blocks back to my apartment in order to avoid an unspeakable intestinal catastrophe. Brutal.
So, to recap... - Forget you, Spice Village. Forget you right in the ass.