by Lisa Goff
I try to stay away from two kinds of restaurants ; those in parking lots, and those on Route 29 North. Asphalt and exhaust fumes seem to attract national food chains, clones of one another, serving mediocre food. But at the recommendation of friends, I broke my boyz and ate at Maharaja, an Indian restaurant in Seminole Square. Once inside Maharaja, you can almost forget you’re in a shopping center. There’s a bar, white tablecloths, yards of exotically hued sheer fabric draped over the windows, and an owner who greets you when you arrive and (if you’re a man) often shakes your hand when you leave. He also stops by every table to ask how you like the meal. It’s nice to know someone cares.
