The Afghan Kitchen, my place in London

by Florencia Urbani (Spain)

I didn't expect to find United Kingdom

The first time I went to “The Afghan Kitchen” was during what my date-at-the-moment called The Tinder Route. After having a few drinks in several pubs, this was the final stop. According to him, after a meal there, success was guaranteed. I was intrigued both by his experiment and the food since I had no clue about afghan cuisine. Home to 67 restaurants holding the Michelin star, London has demonstrated that the UK´s capital knows its way around the kitchen. My date knew that it wasn´t just good food, but the whole experience which gave the place a unique colour. Although the lack of it actually, describes the exterior of the restaurant. As opposed to their street rivals such as Five Guys with their fluorescent lights, its façade is just a glass door and a window with the number 35 in the front with white columns, that´s it. The window works as a sound barrier. Outside, chaos rules. Red double-decker buses rush through the avenue as monsters taking over the city and taxis try to run over some disobedient pedestrians crossing in the middle of Upper Street. Inside, the mighty glass contains the disruptive noise from coming in. A combination of people talking, dishes, glasses clinking, almost to a certain rhythm, created a more intimate and relaxed environment instead. As you enter, the counter is three feet away. Every meal available for the day is on display right in front of you. This is a crucial moment where your eyes search for the Lentil Dahl. The exclusivity of the dish is far from being a marketing technique. Everyone who has gone at least once knows that it´s a dish you must have. A 10-people table is placed as soon as you enter and another one for two people near the staircases -similar to the first floor-, take the whole space. Waiters dance around them with coordinated movements to avoid losing the pyramid of white bowls in their arms as they bring it to the costumers. Sharing different plates together is part of the experience. The menu becomes another gate to the Afghan cuisine. Rice and bread, both nation´s yield crop, are the golden duo which cannot be missed. They serve one main purpose, to soften the rightful combination of flavours within each plate. They are the Robin every Batman needs. Several plates start coming to your table. The colours orange, yellow and brown take over the white base of the dishes. Don´t get deceived by its size. They might look small but after going through Moong Dall, Borani Kadu and the golden duo, you will soon feel there was certainly enough food in there. And especially after the Lavand-e-Murgh, a traditional Afghan dish consisted of slow-cooked chicken in yoghurt. By entering this little restaurant near Angel station, I was no longer in the cold, rainy, grey, polluted London. Since Afghan cuisine is a reflection of its ethnic and geographic diversity, I felt I was discovering Afghanistan through their food. The place became my favourite restaurant in London where I would drag my friends whenever I got the chance, proud to be sharing with them a place only known for locals who don´t want fancy but high-quality food.