I encountered Dr. Vindaloo at a tiny Goan-inspired pop-up called The Fever Room . No menu description could prepare me. The plate arrived deceptively calm: dark, oil-glistening chunks of pork shoulder, a few blistered fingerling potatoes, and a curry the color of a brick sunset. The first forkful was sweet, tangy, almost gentle—vinegar and caramelized onions doing their pre-spice dance. Then the ghost of Dr. Vindaloo cleared its throat.
The pork? Fall-apart tender, having absorbed the curry’s dark soul. The potatoes? Sponges of spicy regret and joy. dr vindaloo
In a heartbeat. But I’m booking the appointment for a Friday night, so I have all weekend to recover. I encountered Dr