Each year, Philadelphia celebrates its favorite foodies and priciest restaurants with fall and winter “restaurant weeks.” This year, the celebration included one hundred restaurants and was extended to two weeks: January 25th to February 6th.

Whether it was to help out those slow to make first week reservations or to offer an extra spike to the city’s hurting economy, the special, three-course menus and the cool $30 price tag gave all of us food admirers a chance to taste the gold.

Although I have attended three of the past restaurant weeks, I still consider myself a severe sufferer of “reservation procrastination.” I have not been disappointed with my past experiences, but I wish I had the savvy reservation skills of a ten-year restaurant week veteran, who nabs his reservation at first sight and lands a spot at one of the week’s top restaurants.

Even though my habit of procrastination continued this season, I was still able to reserve a spot at Philadelphia’s king of Indian cuisine: The Palace at the Ben. Located in the city’s central district at the Ben Franklin Hotel, the restaurant is a lavish haven for lovers of royal ambiance and extreme starch overload.

Upon entering the restaurant, my boyfriend Brian and I were greeted by a hostess wearing a silky, jeweled tunic and a host of confused people either waiting for tables or take-out orders. We mentioned our reservation and were asked several times if we minded waiting a minute as the hostess paced back and forth between the dining area and the entrance way.

Once she lead us to our table, we were disappointed to find out that our table had a draft, little romantic feel, and was only steps from the hostess’ station. I took a deep breath, tightened my shawl, and remembered that I was there for a great meal, not a breath-taking view.

The restaurant on a whole is a lovely place with domed ceiling and arched doorways that are accented by numerous glistening chandeliers, and warm yellows and oranges. Cushioned, high-backed chairs and white linen table cloths grace the lantern-lit tables and, upon close inspection, Indian artifacts like four foot tall pitchers and bronzed elephants peak out from behind potted plants.

Our waitress was also refreshing and extremely down-to-earth despite the rushed restaurant week atmosphere. She promptly brought us our menus and gave us plenty of time to make our selections, which we greatly appreciated due to the fact that we had to order all three courses on the specialized menu at once.

The menu featured a first course soup selection along with a chicken kebab, and a vegetable filled samosa served with a foursome of mango, mint and yogurt chutneys. The second course selections were vast and enticing; everything from chicken, lamb and beef to salmon and strictly vegetable dishes was offered.

Each dish on the menu was described in an almost poetic manner with salivating offerings like fresh green coriander, exotic spices, and golden raisins. If this wasn’t enough, we were also advised to choose between naan, the traditional tandoor baked Indian bread or the aloo paratha bread, a hefty butter-baked wheat bread stuffed with potatoes.

A simple dessert selection of a fruit filled mango sorbet or an exotic Indian ice cream, was appreciated, and we were able to each order one with an unquestionable promise to share.

Our first course arrived in a matter of minutes, which was a situation that my stomach loved but my brain questioned. Had our soups simply been sitting in the kitchen waiting to be distributed in an assembly line like fashion?

Upon closer inspection of my Mulligatawny, or Anglo-Indian split pea Soup and Brian’s Aloo Tamatar, or tomato soup I realized my fears were unnecessary. Each soup burst with a bounty of spice and flavor that accented the creamy texture of the split pea, and the broth of tomato wonderfully.

Being vegetarians, Brian and I opted for two samosa in place of the kebab. The giant, pyramid-shaped pastries were ripping at the seams with a medley of potatoes, carrots, onions, and spice.

Once our soup bowls were scraped clean, and we reduced once-giant samosa to mere tiny crumbs, we were able to relax and enjoy our already-full bellies before the second, main course arrived. We took this time to sip our glasses of fruity, white wine and contemplate whether seven dollars was too much to pay for half a glass. Before we could come to the conclusion that the answer to this was mostly likely yes, the main event arrived.

Carried by a team featuring our waitress and a black clad busser, our second course dishes were laid out in front of us. Quickly filling every edge of our small square table, the shear magnitude of plates forced us to scoot our seats back and push the candle to the side. The black wire basket containing over ten slices of naan dominated the table, while the large bowl of basmati rice and bronze pots containing the main dishes held their own.

I immediately dug right into my Navratan Korma, described on the menu as “A royal entree… Nine garden fresh vegetables gently simmered in a coconut spice-laced cream sauce with nuts,” which turned out to be an indescribable flavor sensation. Potatoes, onions, carrots, and tomatoes bathed luxuriously in the thick, filling sauce and burst with the typical flavor shots of ginger, cinnamon and coconut that are featured in many Indian dishes. Brian’s Malai Kafta Curry featured a similarly creamy sauce surrounding fist-sized fried vegetable balls whose chewy texture and denseness quickly filled both our stomachs.

The second course turned out to be a delicious, but extremely filling feast that left us questioning the final dessert course and ultimately wishing we had skipped out. The mango sorbet was flavorful but smothered by a mountain of whipped cream and filled with candied fruit that very well could have come from a can. Brian’s Indian ice cream was brick hard, and an ice pick would have been helpful when attempting to eat it.

Despite the disappointing finale, this year’s Philadelphia, winter restaurant week did not leave me cold and disheartened. Did I mention that our dinner featured a meet and greet with none other than famed child actor Danny Bonaduce?

I will celebrate the festivities again next year, and who knows, perhaps I will have perfected my reservation skills by then.

Palace at The Ben
834 Chestnut St.
Philadelphia, PA 19107
(267) 232-5600