Dosa-doe your pardner home

I'm the first to admit that I'm not a connoisseur of Indian food, nor do I understand the subtleties of Northern Indian versus Southern Indian food. That being said, I think Dosa is a fun place to eat at and a nice change of pace from your typical naan and curry.

The original Dosa is in the Mission, on Valencia. This one is super crowded, has annoyingly small tables and doesn't take reservations. Also the hostess is always dressed like a renaissance women, it's very odd.

Dosa on Fillmore recently opened up where the old Goodwill used to be. This one has bigger tables (plus point) and takes reservations (plus point). Crowded? I can't tell. When I try to eat there on a Wednesday night at 7pm they say they are booked yet all I see are empty tables staring back at me, also very odd.

Since I currently hate my job, Kathy has all the time in the world and Stacy just wanted to try the place, we decided to take a long lunch and head over to the Fillmore. My personal fav there is the paper masala dosa. Unlike the traditional dosas on the menu, this one is extremely thin and crisp. It tastes delicious with the sambar (lentil dipping soup) and potato concoction. I usually also get the Dahi Vada (lentil dumplings topped with yogurt and garnished with tamarind and mint). The dumplings are crisp and taste refreshing with the yogurt sauce. I was really enjoying it until Kathy said it was basically like a big falafel, and then I was sad. We also shared a sample of Uttapams. I wasn't a big fan of these, they just tasted like bland pancakes.

The dessert menu had some interesting choices. While we chuckled at the name of one option, toasted coconut and saffron barfi, the waiter said it was actually the tastiest dessert. It did not look or taste like projectile vomit, unless your vomit is dry and flaky like the massive amount of coconut in this dish.

Best part of the meal? The company of course! Best conversation topic? General consensus that Paul Giamatti is one of the top 10 creepiest people in movies. Fact: he went to Yale. Fact: don't care where he went to school, he will always give me the heebie jeebies.