Ordering here is a complex process of investigation, negotiation and outright luck. There isn't really a fixed menu. There's a little glossy flier with vague descriptions of some dishes -- "pork curry," "lamb curry" -- but it's a pretty poor indicator of what's available on any given day. Priyani, like a good jazz club, is unpredictable. The number of curries and biryanis the kitchen turns out on different days can seem infinite and varies wildly by the whim of the cook. You cannot go to Priyani expecting a particular dish or a particular mood; you have to be open. And be ready, because Priyani's Sri Lankan cooking pulls no punches. There are delicate saffron aromas alongside pungently fermented sauces, enormous bursts of cardamom followed by intense, clarifying shots of bitter melon -- hitting your palate all at once.