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Having recently discovered a takeaway (well, delivery) service from a nearby Indian, there’s a natural inclination to tell people about how good it is – and that’s not a bad thing.

However, experience dictates that telling other people they would enjoy the same thing I’ve been enjoying is categorically something I’m unwilling to do – especially with an Indian take-away.

While I’ve enjoyed a couple of meals, both completely different, but of a nice level of spice and cooked in a way I’ve enjoyed – it might not be what other people want. To recommend a takeaway is to say ‘This is what I like’ and let somebody take that into the world – just like when you say ‘I love this song’ when Such Great Heights by the Postal Service comes on.

Say you try it, and don’t like it as much. Maybe you have a meal I haven’t done yet as its a fairly new restaurant to me and it isn’t as good. Maybe you like more, or less, sauce with your curry. There’s loads of reasons our taste would be different. Maybe you live further away and while its always come hot to me, it gets a bit cooler on the way to you.

Anyway, as soon as you tell me, and explain the reasons that you don’t like it as much as I do, the food instantly loses a bit of lustre in my eyes, too – like ‘the wonderful prawn puree is a folded piece of A4 with cack’, as it was rather wonderfully described. I respect your opinion and ability to enjoy good things, otherwise I wouldn’t recommend it to you, but you get less delight from it than me, which isn’t the idea. You should share positive experiences for everyone’s benefit, not to everyone’s detriment.

So then you’ve put those thoughts in my head and suddenly I’ll start thinking ‘Yeah, there’s too much sauce’, or ‘No, I don’t want that much coriander’, or something else along those lines and the lovely bubble of curry delight I’ve been blowing has burst.

There’s an episode of the Wonder Years in which young Kevin Arnold follows the John F Kennedy High basketball team. They play really well all the way to the state championships, where Kevin commits some misdemeanour at home and his dad forbids him to attend. Eventually, Jack goes along with him instead, and they see the team that Kevin has been raving about and building up to his dad all season crash and burn when it matters the most. That’s what its like.

Yes, I’ve found an Indian takeaway I like. No, you can’t have their number.

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