Just one word out of the waiter’s mouth and I find myself in some sort of trance. An overload of taste-based adjectives leaves me distracted and usually thirsty for something that contains alcohol. I wait patiently for the mouth-watering description to end and usually order the very last thing mentioned. I can’t help it, everything else just becomes some sort of pecorino-radicchio-reduced-ribolita-rouille with aioli blur.

Thank goodness I have Mpls. St Paul Magazine (and Adam Platt et al!) They cut right though the confit and (annually) break down the local restaurants in one digestible (yeah, I said that) issue. The critics have this to say about that little (just kidding) Indian restaurant, OM: “OM is our first high-style Indian restaurant that plays refined flavors against an alluring and seductive space dripping with beautiful people and their sassy cocktails.” They’ve even named it one of their “New Favorites”. Hmm, how lovely.

Oh, and readers agree with the critics (or is it the other way around?) and think OM is the best Indian restaurant in town. Nice!