Bismillah Briyani is Michelin bib gourmand awarded for their briyani (duh), and of course I had to go see if it was the real life, or if it was just fantasy. The interior decor probably dates back to when the last of the actual bohemians sang a rhapsody, and it really shows.

Their signature kid goat briyani is fifteen (!!!) dollars for a regular sized plate. Fifteen? You GOAT to be kidding me, Scaramouche. Yes, all seven sizeable chunks of kid goat were stunningly sapid and tremendously tender, while the rice was felicitously fluffy and shockingly spicy. Still, it’s extremely expensive and not worth the moolah, especially if you’re just a poor boy from a poor family.

It’s not the price that is the reason why I’ll never go back, however. No, the food was quite remarkable, so it ain’t that. No, it’s because the most gargantuan fucking cockroach in Little India decided to smugly plop itself on the empty (thankfully) seat opposite me and engage me in a staring contest which it lost. After it scurried away, the putrid fucker actually tried to climb onto my shoe!

Mama, I just killed a pest. Put my foot down on its head, squished the bastard, now he’s dead. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was how I knew I outstayed my welcome at Bismillah, and it was high time for me to didi mau. Goodbye everybody, I’ve got to go.

Tl;dr: fuckin bugs man, them bugs are everywhere