It is genuinely detrimental to shop while you're hungry. In our case, it could mean the difference between wandering in the frozen food section to grab an extra pizza to hoarding artisanal, free-range, cruelty-free chocolate bars simply because of our gay homing mechanism that insists we shop at the organic local co-op. Dating a girl is hard. But seriously, shopping when you're hungry is a terrible, terrible thing.
And like an orphaned puppy or a teenage runaway sitting sullenly in the bed of our pickup (there is no pickup) that's kind of how we ended up with this "naanwich." Like breakfast in bed and the musical stylings of Yes, it seems immaculate in theory yet proves to be disastrous in practice. Indian food? In my sandwich? According to Sukhi's, it's more common than you think. It seemed like one of those good-bad ideas. Take the messiest food you could find (was a spaghetti and meatball sandwich already taken? How about a milkshake sandwich for dessert?) and slap it in between bread. Luckily, chicken tikka masala is one of my favorite foods, and sandwichifying it only makes it more appealing to my childlike palate.
Not only is this Oprah recommended, it's microwavable. Hot damn, hello, 21st century. And may the grand reign of Oprah rest in peace. $3 and 90 seconds later, which, for the record, took me longer to calculate to microwave than I'm willing to admit, and we had our snack. According to the nutritional facts, this is a mere 310 calories, bread included, with only 6 grams of fat. Eating at an Indian restaurant, a typical serving of tikka with the naan, hefts a total of 836 calories and 42.5 grams of fat. And that's if you opt out of having it with rice. While I'm a little more willing to eat that kind of food in the winter when I can hide it under bulky jackets, in the summer it's less than desirable. Being able to satisfy that craving for creamy tikka was a definite advantage.
However, this didn't exactly deliver the type of comfort and satiation I desired. Keepitcoming Love and I split the sandwich as a snack. When it came out of the microwave, the pillowy-looking naan had dehydrated and ended up being soft and crumbly in the middle, with a fantastic herbed flavor, but chewy and tough on the edges. The ingredients were clearly top of the line and authentic, with a bold cilantro flavor permeating the filling, which was mixed with long strips of sweet onion and a thick, robust sauce. Personally, I felt that it didn't have the creaminess essential to a tikka masala. There was plenty of chicken to speak of, though it cooked unevenly and left us with a few unpleasant cold spots in each piece. While the innovation in this is mouth-watering over pedestrian PB&J and the typical turkey and cheese, there are a few too many flaws for me to buy this again. Try as I might, I just couldn't eat this without thinking, with a pang of guilt, that for a mere buck and a half more I could have gotten a loaded Roast Beef Smitty with homemade boursin cheese at State Street Deli.
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