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.
Ivan Kreilkamp 
Hmmm… Sir Taj. The thing they had going for them was a)big pieces of chicken b)throughly cooked but juicy c)good if uncomplicated Raita.
I knew you’d have more precise memories of the food.