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Traditions isn't in a pretty part of Tustin. The building it now occupies was abandoned by Roderick's-the kind of nightclub-cum-restaurant that looked best in the dark. In the harsh light of day, the place reeked of urban blight, weather-worn and tired. The standalone structure, flanked by a gas station, is dusty and adrift on the hot asphalt parking lot of a near treeless mini-mall. But the minute you walk through its doors, you enter a dimly-lit sanctuary decorated with peacock feathers and cooled by a hard-working A/C system. Also in the air: the syncopated rhythms of Indian drums and the bold aromas of what could only be Indian curries, bubbly breads, and char-singed tandoor meats.