Azra restaurant review: This generous Afghan is just what the fat kid ordered
Leyton. Named after the Hazara people in the mountainous region of Hazarajat, Azra is tucked into another of London’s archways, all beautifully lit.
“Absolutely stunning food and environment. Staff were wonderful and we will definitely be back. My friend and I shared a lot of the dips and sharing plates as we don’t eat meat. Every dish was phenomenal.”
Based on traditional guest rooms of Afghan homes, Azra has devoted its back wall to a takht: a padded booth where guests sit to drink tea or eat, shoes kicked off under a step. The restaurant doesn’t serve alcohol, but is BYOB.
Doubling down with a five-hour braised lamb shank seems only right. Simmered to a wimp, it slinks completely from the bone to end up sculling in a sauce heady with cumin, black pepper, coriander and chilli. Strangely, the meat hasn’t taken on much flavour, though it doesn’t really matter once it’s pulled apart and mixed into the sauce. The sabzi — a metric tonne of spinach wilted down with plenty of garlic and onions — is mellow and chlorophyllic. We’re less enamoured by the morgh kebab which, while luminous with turmeric and saffron from its yoghurt marinade, arrives comparatively dry.
Mint-packed carafes of water and baskets of bread are ferried out by the tray load, with even the chefs peeking into the dining room, presumably to check that the sudden torrent of orders is real. Bookings spill to the outside seating, the dining room inflated with the clamour of a feast in full swing — just how the Kazemis intended. Despite some mishaps, which can be ironed out, Azra has the charm of a supper club, with bright, clearly defined flavours and a genuine concern for appetite and a desire to satisfy it.
The fact Azra doesn’t offer dessert isn’t a deal-breaker. Chunk Provisions is nearby doing some borderline perverse things with ice cream.