Sometimes we forget how accustomed we’ve become to the curated polish of the contemporary dining scene, and how a simple coffee, cake, and eggs at a Persian mom-and-pop bakery can feel like a warm, loving hug. A quiet return to something soulful and real, from long before life stretched itself into endless online visual posturing. I stepped in for a quick coffee in our neighbourhood and was immediately drawn in by Farsi songs, homeworn carpets, Rumi posters, and the lingering, intoxicating scent of freshly baked almond and pistachio desserts.

A drizzly, ordinary Wednesday transported me into a sweeter space…..memories of enduring love in the MENA world, friendships that travelled beyond the grave, and the tasting of generous drops of red saffron folded into hot, oven-baked rice alongside tender marinated chicken. There is something telling about a bakery that is less concerned with elevation or spectacle, but instead invites me to remember the richness of youthful, chesty laughter and a time when food was the centrepiece of innocence.

These are some of the aesthetic moments that captured my reflections, and I’m grateful they left a deep enough impression to draw me back to the blog…

Without even reading more about the place, Fari & Ali’s Kitchen genuinely feels like an organic story of life and love, from its home cooked recipes, non-matching dinnerware and uncontrived walls of pottery, maps, framed family photos and rugs.

The hot latte was good, the gluten free almond coconut cake divine and the Persian omlette was the chef’s kiss (a verdict made after sampling different kinds of local egg dishes throughout the middle east).

We barely scratched their daytime menu, and inevitably plan for repeated visits in the near future including trying out their Nooshe Jan set-up in the same venue. Both IG pages are here (Fari & Ali’s Kitchen) and here (Nooshe Jan) which depicts not just their offerings but their beginings and ethos.