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Angon

1/2

Sometimes you feel cursed. Mina, the Bangladeshi chef who used to (wo)man
the kitchen at her namesake restaurant in Woodside, has moved to the Sixth
St. Indian strip in the East Village. I only tried Mina once and it was a
little traumatizing (though mostly because I became violently ill
immediately after eating, which seemed too soon to be poisoning related to
that meal. I had to attribute it to earlier street cart cakes from Sunset
Parks Chinatown).

But Angon is a totally different restaurant with the same enthusiastic
following. I had high hopes, but once again peripheral circumstances threw
the whole evening off. It was hot, I was cranky and argumentative (it was
Friday and I'd already had a few drinks) and James and I started clashing
over everything without reason. The big rift came when our waitress
misunderstood James while he was ordering. I cant even remember what the
dish was, a lamb curry of some sort, and the menu said it was hot. I think
the waitress pointed out that it was hot but in a garbled ESL way because
she thought James was asking if it was hot. We were hoping that it was.

She became convinced he hated hot food (and possibly her) and we were
unable to rectify our orders heat level. (Sometimes I feel like I have the
worst time communicating. There was this period in the mid-β€˜90s where
every single time I'd ask for Camel Lights, the clerk would give me Camel
Wides. I practically had to practice enunciating the word lights.) James and
I started spatting over who created the confusion, and I don't even know
what else. From this point on, the meal and the rest of the evening were
going to suck. The damage had been done.

One of the things with Angon, and Mina previously, is how the food
supposedly isnt watered down for Americans, but that you really need to
emphasize you want spiciness. So no, our food wasn't incendiary, though it
was tasty. The fish kofta was good, as well as the samosa chat, which is
practically a meal in itself. I'm afraid that I'm just not meant to be a
member of the Mina-loving club. Not that shes ever done anything to me
personally. But both affiliated restaurants have been settings for odd
situations.


Angon on the Sixth * 320 E. Sixth St., New York, NY

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