.]
I drove past a mini mall the other day in my hometown, Commack, N.Y., where my favorite Indian buffet, Kiraan Palace, once stood. My brother, Ravi, and I used to spend almost every Saturday afternoon as teenagers at the corner table, closest to the buffet line, while our regular waiter refilled baskets of garlic naan at our table every 20 minutes. While most of our friends were eating at the pizza place up the block or scarfing down hot dogs at Nathan’s across the street, we held court at our unusual hangout because it felt most like home. And when it closed a few years later, we made sure to find a new refuge.