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Repeat after me: buns, goat, rice. The three dishes that, if you’re heading to this Indian fusion hangout, should be standing on the top of your hit list, admiring the view.
First, the buns. A pair of fluffy bao, each with a lick of green chilli mayo and stuffing of rich butter chicken. Like all good sarnies, they came with crisps – a heap of baked veggie curls, a posh take on the ones you get at Pret. Disturbingly moreish.
Next, the goat. Slathered in a thick, yoghurty marinade, the chargrilled meat was so tender it fell apart at the merest provocation. Cardamom pods loitered on top, daring you to eat one. There were other adornments: a savoury tube of brittle pastry here, a poured-at-the-table sauce there. A tad fussy, but you couldn’t fault the flavours.
And finally, the ‘pulao’ rice. Billed as a side (though at a not-very-side-dish price of £7), it was more like a veggie biryani: soft, buttery and full of glistening edamame beans. Rice is generally not something to get excited about, but this was one to roll out the red carpet for.
There were other decent offerings: poppadom-topped lentil arancini; snails with a chilli kick; and venison in a mild coconut sauce, with mustard seeds and curry leaves. But there were silly slip-ups too. Like ‘traditional breads’ that tasted as if they’d come from the supermarket, or the pathetically bland ‘paneer popcorn’.
But in the end, my only real gripe with this place – the first London branch of a successful Indian chain – was with its too-muchness. Lights too bright, music too loud, interiors too brash (‘It’s like an airport bar’ commented my pal). Still, staff were lovely. Farzi Café will work best as an on-your-way-to-something-else spot. Or if you’re hankering for killer buns, goat and rice.