CHAPTER 8
"Just 'cause she's Indian, doesn't mean she knows every Indian restaurant in town," I commented.
We had loaded up our plates and were sitting across from each other in a booth with a colorful silk curtain. I wanted to savor the spicy curry aroma filling my nostrils with its promise of complex and delectable flavors, but my gurgling stomach was yelling at me to hurry up and eat already, so I did. The savoring would have to wait for my second trip to the buffet.
"Sure, it does," Kip said.
He handed me a naan from the bread basket on the table, then took one for himself. The naan looked like a large pita but, unlike pita, it was soft and chewy, warm and delicious. My lunch was incredibly good, or else I was simply ravenous. Cervantes was right; hunger really is the best sauce.
