My 7 Favorite Restaurants near Newtown: #7

My friends and I are big foodies. I say foodie reluctantly, in the most flippant of manners. As opposed as I am to the term “foodie,” you can see how much we enjoy eating due to the fact we happen to be holding metal forks. Non-foodies would never hold forks candidly upright for a waiter taken photograph. What started as a friends thanksgiving buffet at Kolam, an Indian restaurant not worth visiting, transpired into a group of ten visiting, give or take, 40 restaurants in the vicinity of 15 miles of Newtown, under the ambiguous self-given name of GrubHub. From microwaved Transylvanian stew to Peruvian anticuchos served by a bubbly Latina woman, gastronomic moments aside, we’ve had our fun.

As much as I wish upon clairvoyance or a sixth sense in determining suitable dining options, I will continue to dream as I don’t see either happening quite soon. What has been undeniably helpful, of course with some impediments, is the easily downloadable app, Yelp. Sure, Yelp is stigmatized as a breeding ground for intolerable plebeians expatiating two-star reviews for the McRib, but it’s easy to ignore the dark side. Employing Yelp research tactics such as ignoring any review not by an elite member is of value. That said, be careful. Actually, rather than test the waters and fall victim to Yelp sharks, I might as well go into my top seven list of restaurants within five miles of Newtown.

Danbury:

A week ago I was in touching distance of a frozen Peruvian guinea pig. Amongst replica Calvin Klein jeans, SpongeBob baseball caps trying to avoid a run-in with copyright issues, conveniently packaged penis enlargement pills, lay a single freezer. Coconut ice cream in tubes on the left, frozen pulp, thought to be of passion fruit in the middle, and with no freezer divider, five or so frozen ten pounds skinned Peruvian guinea pigs, teeth still intact. With no price tag, I approached the lady behind a wall of inch thick bulletproof glass, the same you would find at any bank. Slightly concerned, as this was indeed nothing near a bank, instead a store selling frozen Peruvian guinea pigs without price tags, she replied, “$22”. It wasn’t an astounding find whatsoever, and the exorbitant price sucked away all excitement.

Minutes before, my friends and I had stumbled into a nearby convenience store, prompted exclusively by my scratch-off lottery ticket gambling resurgence. We were met with a friendly paper sign on the front door emphasizing, “No guns or masks allowed.” Disappointed we couldn’t bring our Glock 45’s and bank heist masks to buy bottled water and Match Three tickets, we immediately departed. Kidding guys, we returned to our car and carefully placed the Glock 45’s and bank heist masks in the glove compartment like any respectable gangster would do. In actuality, without any form of hesitation, we just opened the door, finding ourselves feet away from seven or so middle-aged Hispanic men drinking beer, having fun.

Danbury, for me, is the equivalent of what exploring the Louisiana Purchase for Lewis and Clark must have felt like, and I say that without a note of racism. Compared to Bethel or Monroe, I’m nowhere as near conscious on their gastronomic scene as one would like to be. So please, these recommendations are highly subjective for no reason other than lack of Danbury exposure.

Royal Guard Fish and Chips:

Located next to a car wash, across from Zaytuna; an Indian restaurant with a fried chicken restaurant in its nucleus, is Royal Guard Fish and Chips. Don’t go to Zaytuna as the concept of having a fried chicken restaurant inside a semi-acceptable Indian restaurant is perplexing and doesn’t work. That said, the Indian market to the right of Zaytuna has its merits if you find whole lamb heads and Parle-G biscuits enticing.

Whoever the interior designer of RGFC must have been inspired by works of our nation's correctional facilities alongside the interior design of any dermatologist waiting room. It’s blindingly white. My first visit was in late August looking to expose my glutinous appetite in order to ignore pre-college anxiety. I was alone. Naan and some Chana Masala was reasonable enough to begin with. The only other dining occupants in the restaurant, perhaps the most stereotypical elderly British couple. “I don’t understand how such fish and chips exist outside of England”, is distressingly a direct quote from my experience. This was nothing but puzzling as the fish and chips were nothing I hadn’t seen in the Costco freezer aisle, which I don’t mean as an insult in the least bit. My naan and Chana Masala came out reasonably fast due to it being just me and the cheeky British couple in the hospital esque dining room. I’m very particular with naan. I want my naan fresh out of the tandoor. I want more than a reasonable amount of ghee brushed upon. Naan should be somewhat crispy on the outside yet comfortably chewy once past the crispy layer. RGFC did exactly this. The Chana Masala didn’t disappoint either. The cumin and mustard seeds were noticeably toasted. The chickpeas were not cooked to mush yet still had some form of bite prompting me to assume they were dried instead of canned which is always exciting. Indian, especially in Fairfield County, is hard to execute. You can count on Royal Guard Fish and Chips to pull it off.