One Meal In Lincoln, Nebraska: The Oven
An Epic Indian Feast At 12 PM On A Monday
When I travel for work, I typically have one meal that is unaccounted for. Whether I covertly slip away from a conference or purposely arrive at my destination early, it is a core tenet of my travel philosophy to try something special no matter where I am. I recently justified a 4:15 am shuttle ride to Chicago just to fly direct to Lincoln, Nebraska for a one-day business trip; if I had to be that exhausted, I might as well be indulging in a new city.
Fast forward to a 10:45 am early check-in at the Courtyard Marriot in Downtown Lincoln where I asked the concierge what she would recommend for a Monday lunch, as I tend to trust a local more than the web.
She asked me what I liked, I said “Everything”.
To which she replied, “How do you feel about Indian food?”
Not only was I immediately excited, but I felt validated that my online sleuthing skills remain as sharp as ever. The one eatery that had really intrigued me during my pre-travel restaurant stalking (do you all do this too or is it just me?) was The Oven, a Haymarket staple since the 1980s and luckily for me, 3 blocks from my temporary residence.
It was a sunny yet quiet Monday in February. Despite being in the heart of downtown Lincoln right next to Pinnacle Bank Arena, the home of Huskers Basketball, it felt like the whole city was asleep. In fact, I did not see another soul until I arrived at The Oven. As I stepped inside, I was greeted with warmth and the soft hum of conversation punctuated by clanging silverware. Sunlight poured into the dining room through the many windows, illuminating pale blue walls covered in an array of tapestries and mosaic artworks. Sat right away, I was practically buzzing and very ready to eat.
My server Gabi, a 20-something with a propensity for calling every table “love” or “baby” regardless of the individual, immediately greeted me. For the second time that day, I asked for recommendations. She directed me to samosas, a curry not on the lunch menu and buttered naan. Yes, more, thank you, please.
Here are the highlights of my meal at The Oven:
I kicked things off with vegetable samosas, the most popular appetizer on the menu according to Gabi. And I’d agree that it was worth the hype. They served two large, piping hot samosas jam-packed with a highly spiced, extra smooth potato filling that popped with little bites of peas. The dough was flaky but substantial enough to hold the heft of the filling. My mouth started heating up from the potato mixture’s spice level. It was hot enough that I had to refill my emptied water glass a couple times, anticipating with excitement (and a little trepidation) my entree which was described to be spicy.
Mulligatawny soup was next, which unnecessarily surprised me, as I didn’t read the menu close enough to realize this was complimentary with my order. This golden soup is made with yellow lentils pureed with spices and served with a little bit of basmati rice and fresh cilantro in the center. It was earthy, homey, and warming then brightened with an added squeeze of lemon. I was genuinely sad to leave about half my bowl behind to save room for what was next.
And then the secret menu item, my server’s favorite Gosht Akbari. Okay, okay, it’s not actually a secret: just a dinner entree that they made for me at noon. The Oven’s Gosht Akbari is a deeply savory stew of tender lamb cooked with dates, apricots, prunes and spiced with cinnamon and green chilies. And boy did this dish make me happy. It was spicy, yes, but more in that beautifully slow way that starts heating up your throat instead of your mouth. Warmed by the ⅛ inch thick slices of green chilies, seeds and all, the Gosht Akbari was balanced with small diced pieces of fruit that provided relieving moments of chewy sweetness. I enjoyed this dish so much that even my overly analytical brain stopped trying to distinguish the individual notes that I was tasting. I just savored each sumptuous and harmonious bite.
And my oh my, what a better compliment to Gosht Akbari than buttered naan. Now I am a firm believer that it is offensive, nay sacrilegious, to turn down garlic naan—one of God’s (or fill-in-the-blank-deity’s) greatest gifts to mankind. But I have to hand it to Gabi—she was right. With so many bold flavors dominating and delighting my palate, nothing could have been better than this side fresh from the tandoori oven. The Oven’s buttered naan somehow masters the paradox of dripping in melty butter while staying flaky and crisp. How does one achieve this so perfectly? I’m not chef and owner Ngawang Rinchen, so I suppose I’ll never know.
I finished my one meal in Lincoln and felt warm from the inside out. It was a $35 feast consisting of happy food. I felt invited and welcomed by my meal in this special place. Call me dramatic, but after having been in Nebraska, alone, for less than three hours, I’d say that is the unique power of a truly wonderful dining experience. Nothing else can give you that feeling of comfort with such speed and clarity.
If I’m ever back in town, my first stop will be right downstairs at The Oven’s Wine Cellar, where lucky guests can sample a vast array of vino and devour more of Rinchen’s spectacular eats.
Good vibes, flavor for days, Buttered. Naan.
Ergo Yum.
What a great descriptive article! I felt as though I was experiencing this meal with you. I hope you share your well-written articles with each restaurant you write about. I bet reading your honest appreciation for what they provide would make their day!
The Indian cuisine is one of my favorites!! Good choice!