Hooray For Bollywood!
Originally Posted: 7/24/2002
I would say that the best part about visiting my parents this weekend was the 5 minute discussion on the proper way to place the eggs in the refrigerator bin so that the next person who needs an egg is sure to take the oldest on first, but that would be a lie. The best part of the trip was my visit to Planet Bollywood. Let me clarify. It wasn’t so much the part where we ate at Planet Bollywood, so much as the anticipation. I found a listing in the Silicon Valley Eye saying that PB was a new restaurant that had opened in Milpitas, a hop skip and a jump from my home town of San Jose. I informed my partner in crime, Z** of my desire. And she informed me of her conflicting desire to hike through the redwoods in Oakland and watch a nature documentary in Berkeley. I conceded and IMMEDIATELY hated myself for it. I met Z** for our hike, and after saying our hellos I began “Operation: Wear Z** down so we could go to Planet Bollywood”. It took 30 seconds. We were going to hike and then dine.
At this point I should take a moment to tell everyone that if you are driving through the San Jose area, don’t take 237 to get to Milpitas. It seems easy enough, but really it’s a nightmare of bad signage and construction. It made me eat my words from all those times in Boston I’ve so cockily said “Why can’t they have decent signage on these roads? This was NEVER a problem in California!” But I digress.
Armed with the directions given to me by parents, namely, “Planet Bollywood? Oh yeah, that’s over there across from Mervyn’s” Z** and I began our search. This is the part where I started to doubt Planet Bollywood. Could it be that PB was actually in a mini-mall? The horror of it all. I would expect Planet Bollywood to encompass the entirety of one full stand-alone building. Five minutes later we have driven around the mini-mall and seen no sign of the infamous Planet Bollywood. Have we been misdirected by my so-called loving parents?
We call home. My mom is not amused. This is probably because once she points us in the right direction (across from Mervyn’s) I see PB and have the perfectly natural response which is to shout while bouncing up and down in my seat and pointing “I see it! I see it! Planet Bollywood! Planet Bollywood!” I settle down into something more of a chant and then Z** sees it. Her excitement rivals mine. My mom cannot wait to be off the phone not listening to our goings-on. We turn into the parking lot.
This is where it gets less exciting. I mean sure, the sports car parked on the sidewalk in front of the door is exciting. Sure, the sound of the Bollywood music makes me wanna dance. Sure, I am mesmerized my the Bollywood videos on the giant television screens. Sure, I am loving the larger than life-size posters of my favorite Bollywood stars. But that’s where the excitement ends. Other than that it’s just another mediocre Indian restaurant with a buffet and an almost entirely Mexican bus-staff. Where is the kitsch? Where is the woman walking around offering to henna our hands?
I mean, you don’t call a place Planet Bollywood if you can’t live up to the name. Can I get a witness?
Originally Posted: 7/24/2002
I would say that the best part about visiting my parents this weekend was the 5 minute discussion on the proper way to place the eggs in the refrigerator bin so that the next person who needs an egg is sure to take the oldest on first, but that would be a lie. The best part of the trip was my visit to Planet Bollywood. Let me clarify. It wasn’t so much the part where we ate at Planet Bollywood, so much as the anticipation. I found a listing in the Silicon Valley Eye saying that PB was a new restaurant that had opened in Milpitas, a hop skip and a jump from my home town of San Jose. I informed my partner in crime, Z** of my desire. And she informed me of her conflicting desire to hike through the redwoods in Oakland and watch a nature documentary in Berkeley. I conceded and IMMEDIATELY hated myself for it. I met Z** for our hike, and after saying our hellos I began “Operation: Wear Z** down so we could go to Planet Bollywood”. It took 30 seconds. We were going to hike and then dine.
At this point I should take a moment to tell everyone that if you are driving through the San Jose area, don’t take 237 to get to Milpitas. It seems easy enough, but really it’s a nightmare of bad signage and construction. It made me eat my words from all those times in Boston I’ve so cockily said “Why can’t they have decent signage on these roads? This was NEVER a problem in California!” But I digress.
Armed with the directions given to me by parents, namely, “Planet Bollywood? Oh yeah, that’s over there across from Mervyn’s” Z** and I began our search. This is the part where I started to doubt Planet Bollywood. Could it be that PB was actually in a mini-mall? The horror of it all. I would expect Planet Bollywood to encompass the entirety of one full stand-alone building. Five minutes later we have driven around the mini-mall and seen no sign of the infamous Planet Bollywood. Have we been misdirected by my so-called loving parents?
We call home. My mom is not amused. This is probably because once she points us in the right direction (across from Mervyn’s) I see PB and have the perfectly natural response which is to shout while bouncing up and down in my seat and pointing “I see it! I see it! Planet Bollywood! Planet Bollywood!” I settle down into something more of a chant and then Z** sees it. Her excitement rivals mine. My mom cannot wait to be off the phone not listening to our goings-on. We turn into the parking lot.
This is where it gets less exciting. I mean sure, the sports car parked on the sidewalk in front of the door is exciting. Sure, the sound of the Bollywood music makes me wanna dance. Sure, I am mesmerized my the Bollywood videos on the giant television screens. Sure, I am loving the larger than life-size posters of my favorite Bollywood stars. But that’s where the excitement ends. Other than that it’s just another mediocre Indian restaurant with a buffet and an almost entirely Mexican bus-staff. Where is the kitsch? Where is the woman walking around offering to henna our hands?
I mean, you don’t call a place Planet Bollywood if you can’t live up to the name. Can I get a witness?
Alana wrote this crap at
12:48 PM
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