I am stealing/ paying homage to my blog-buddy Don Quixote Was a Steel Drivin’ Man’s recurring feature, Invisible Restaurants, “Capsule Reviews of Restaurants No Longer in Existence.”
Actually I do not know for sure that Sir Taj is no longer in existence. I am probably spelling it wrong anyway. This is/was an Indian lunch place maybe on East 41st street or something… is my geography completely wrong? Jon and I worked as badly-paid glorified receptionists editorial assistants at a publishing house near the Flatiron building. Sir Taj had good, generously-portioned chicken tandoori for some ridiculous price, maybe $3.50 or something? Initially my colleague (and old friend) Jon and I would only go there once a week or so — after all it was almost a 15 minute walk and we only had an hour lunch break, officially anyway. But that winter, I started going there 3 or 4 times a week, by myself if necessary. Somehow it seemed absolutely impossible to bring my own lunch; I was totally poor; and the cheap options close by work were lousy. The guys who worked at Sir Taj were impassive-faced as they handed over my tandoori and would never nod or in any way acknowledge me as a regular. I found out later that George sent a letter to me care of the restaurant, describing my appearance on the envelope, saying that I always wore a long scarf and was there several days a week for lunch. Of course, I never got it, I’m sure they threw it out.