by Ian Froeb
By the time our entrées arrive, our brows are damp with cooling sweat, and thoughts of the beautiful weather outside are lost in a fog of spice. On this visit I've decided to apply my usual Indian-restaurant litmus test: lamb vindaloo. It arrives in the sort of brown crock in which French onion soup is served, but spooned over rice on a plate, its vermillion shade seems the brightest thing in the restaurant. The hunks of lamb are tender and flavorful, the meat's natural gaminess a natural match for the vindaloo's notes of tomato and vinegar. This isn't the hottest vindaloo I've eaten -- far from it -- but when I turn off my critic's apparatus for a moment, I enjoy it for what it is: simply good.Visit the RFT restaurant page late tomorrow afternoon or check back here Wendesday morning to see what I think.