I was on the bus, scrolling through my iPhone and generally avoiding real-life human interaction, when New York Magazine offered up an article entitled, "Meet the Pav Bahji -- the Indian Sandwich That Should Be Sold Everywhere."
Blame my then-roaring post-work appetite, but,
"...delicious mashed potato sandwich on bread..."
was just about the sexiest phrase I'd ever read (and that's counting the two-ish pages of 50 Shades of Grey that have made it into my life's bibliography).
Mashed. Potato. Sandwich.
I'm already a pro at stuffing my face full of Indian food. Who isn't? Especially dishes of the fried and/or bathed in cream sauce variety. And the bread, ohhh the bread. Some (normal) (health-conscious) (horrible) people limit themselves to one starch per meal. I believe in trying them all -- rice, naan, that cracker-y thing with the seeds -- on the same plate, layered under the Butter Chickens and Chana Masalas and you get the idea.
Anyway. The point? Oh yeah. I want to eat this sandwich. It's also described as an Indian Sloppy Joe, so clearly my hopes are way way up on it being fucking delicious.
Preliminary Google tests reveal exactly zero restaurants serving Pan Bahji in Montreal. Better get poison control ready -- it looks like mama's gonna start tearing up the kitchen.
But not tonight. Tonight, Josh made pesto meat load and zucchini fritters for dinner, because sometimes I'm spoiled like that.
(Photo via http://www.flavorsofmumbai.com/mumbai-pav-bhaji-recipe)
(Article via http://www.grubstreet.com/2014/09/pav-bhaji-baluchis-fresh.html)