Good Thanksgiving weekend? Excellent.
We’re assuming you worked up an appetite, what with all the eating.
Pretend that made perfect sense and kindly direct your attention to Babu Ji, a bright and buzzy new Indian spot by way of New York and Melbourne that is now soft-open in the Mission and looks like this.
The name’s a Hindi term referring to that guy in your neighborhood who knows everyone and everything. Here, he’s got massive sunglasses and a magnificent mustache (at least that’s what that big picture on the wall would have you believe), and his haunt is a lively party room with turquoise banquettes, gold details and technicolor photographs.
The pop-art-with-a-sitar-soundtrack vibes are strong with this one, yes. It’s a place you’ll frequent for raucous celebratory dinners where you and your nearest and dearest can feast for hours.
Arrive early for a round of Don’t Tell Aunties with tequila, mezcal, Aperol and beet at the jewel-toned bar. Maybe some Colonel Tso’s cauliflower, a fine example of the insouciant, punk rock approach to Indian food here.
You’ll sample much more when your table goes in on the chef’s tasting menu with wine or beer pairings. But for now, just grab a cold something-or-other from the self-serve beer fridge.
There’s still so much to be thankful for.
We’re assuming you worked up an appetite, what with all the eating.
Pretend that made perfect sense and kindly direct your attention to Babu Ji, a bright and buzzy new Indian spot by way of New York and Melbourne that is now soft-open in the Mission and looks like this.
The name’s a Hindi term referring to that guy in your neighborhood who knows everyone and everything. Here, he’s got massive sunglasses and a magnificent mustache (at least that’s what that big picture on the wall would have you believe), and his haunt is a lively party room with turquoise banquettes, gold details and technicolor photographs.
The pop-art-with-a-sitar-soundtrack vibes are strong with this one, yes. It’s a place you’ll frequent for raucous celebratory dinners where you and your nearest and dearest can feast for hours.
Arrive early for a round of Don’t Tell Aunties with tequila, mezcal, Aperol and beet at the jewel-toned bar. Maybe some Colonel Tso’s cauliflower, a fine example of the insouciant, punk rock approach to Indian food here.
You’ll sample much more when your table goes in on the chef’s tasting menu with wine or beer pairings. But for now, just grab a cold something-or-other from the self-serve beer fridge.
There’s still so much to be thankful for.
