I thank Omar for making my food blog more interesting. He thanks me for writing the only interesting food blog. I suppose he has a point. He has trundled me down from the new office in The Jewellery Quarter – The Wilmot if you are looking for something special – to the Soho road, parking the car on a residential road that looks suspiciously like Benefits Street and walking me up a hill to a restaurant he went some twelve years ago with his Grandad. I imagine Kurdistan Restaurant looked exactly then as it does now, simple tables, cushioned chairs that just about do the job, and a glass counter at one end with various bits of sheep and chicken ready to be cooked over fire.
I won’t pretend to know anything about the Kurds other than what Omar told me that afternoon, so I’ll concentrate entirely on the food. It seems to me at least that they have a sense of hospitality that comes from being upped and moved for centuries without rights or autonomy. We felt welcomed – very welcomed – even if it came with a sense of what are they doing here and why is one of them taking pictures. Complimentary lentil soup that’s meaty from lamb bones and offcuts starts us off brilliantly, then a starter of hummus between the two of us that I would argue is the best hummus in this city. It has texture, loads of tahini and garlic, finished with an olive oil that adds a bright green pepperiness. The flatbread is supple and delicate, straight out of a tandoor.
We get the same mixed grill for mains; one minced lamb, another minced chicken. Both cooked over fire, not in a trendy way over mini barbecues with fancy slow burning charcoal, more an aggressive heat where all parts of the flame play a part. They are smokey, moreover they are cooked by a hand that has done this a thousand times, so that the fat renders and glues the proteins together. I’d bargain that if you ate the chicken quickly it would be a touch under, though left to rest it is perfect. Both skewers are superb, simple and direct in seasoning, though the treat is the sheet of bread underneath which soaks up the meat. It was at this point that I thanked Omar. To paraphrase every gimp on a reality dating program, this restaurant is a bit of me.
The bill is £22 including a couple of cokes, and they’ll throw in a fragrant black tea to send you on your way. Omar paid. As with any of these write-ups I am conscious that it can come across as a little white saviour. The reality is the opposite; Kurdistan Restaurant is open to serve the very people it’s name suggests and will continue to do so whether or not anyone who reads this decides to also give it a go. As we leave I thank the man who served us, telling him that I really loved the cooking and will be making a return soon. He shakes my hand. That singular motion tells me that you will also be welcome should you wish to visit.
9/10
