Last month*, Mizzo, Deezy, The Beaver, and I ate at a Bangladeshi joint called Panahar on Atlanta’s international boulevard. Like several other mighty zesty Atlanta restaurants, eg. South of France Freedom, this one is cleverly hidden in a strip mall.

Our waiter asked us a few questions about what meats and flavors we like and then told us what to order. At first, I found this odd. Then I remembered how furious I was when the cocksmoking whore bag that runs Emory Party Pictures contracted me to shoot an event and spelled out exactly what camera settings to use**. In contrast to that situation***, I realized the waiter probably knew a fuckton more about Bangladeshi food than I did. As usual, I was right. When our orders arrived, the food was spicy and full of esoteric flavors, which blended well together. In short, it fucking rocked.

Panahar is totally bitchin’. Also, the restaurant is super economical, because they do not have a liquor license. Hence, BYOB is encouraged. I highly recommend Mad Dog 20/20, as the sweetness complements the spice of Bangladeshi food very nicely.

notes:

* Yeah, so I’m behind. Fuck you.
** Yes I’m still bitter about that. Like I ever get unangry.
*** Where I knew far more about photography than captain dipshit.