There are a lot of photographs here for you to enjoy. All of them click so you can get a better look at the delights, should you so wish. My only regret is that you all could not have also experienced at first hand what was, for me, one of the most exceptional nights of dining I have yet enjoyed.
I've had some good meals, that's for sure - some incredible meals, even, but this place manages to combine the delights of great food with a welcome unparalleled in my experience.
Allow me to explain.
Top left: The world's most delicious garlic naan ever. It was to Indian nan bread, what thin Italian pizza is to deep pan pizza. Cooked in a clay oven, it is light and thin and crispy and doughy all at once, and the top is coated with shiny freshhot butter and garlic. Only good to eat direct from the oven, but when delivered in this way superlatives are unable to adequately express the wonderfulness.
Top right: A mixture of roasted vegetables in a stock liquor. Unusual, but very tasty, with the odd bit of hot chilli to keep me happy.
Bottom left: The plate of kebabs. This was their “starter kit” for us newbies to Persian food. The flat lamb was tender and flavoursome, the shish kofteh was the best I have eaten - not dry at all, or greasy. The marinated chicken was tender and gentle, whilst still delivering a flavour beyond supposed belief. The pickled chillies and grilled tomatoes coloured up the plate and found a home in my belly too.
Bottom Right: The rice was served in two colours, one presumably coloured with saffron. What I cannot show is the pile of butter they supply to melt into it. Always the staff were eagerly explaining that we should add more butter because this is how it is eaten. we were asked plenty of times if all was well, and anything we needed was brought promptly. Real service. Very impressive.
Also not shown was the Barley and Lamb soup. This tasted a little like a meaty porridge and was very creamy indeed. I'm not utterly convinced that I completely liked it, but I'd be willing to give it a try again. Nor am I convinced that we actually ordered it, and this became something of a theme as the night progressed. The drinks and food kept appearing, and we kept on eating and drinking. The drinking was made interesting by Iranian beer and purest pomegranate juice.
There was another starter, which just kind of turned up after the soup. I am sad that I forgot to photograph it, such was my hunger. It consisted of two vine leaf parcels served warm with a rice mixture inside. Very tasty. Also in this section were slices of lime and tomato, layered, as well as slices of other misc. pickles and two generous spoonfuls of something akin to yoghurt and cucumber dip. This, with the hot garlic naan was to die for, or as a result of. I really didn't much care - it tasted way too good to care.
Essentially, you see us here, spending some time together with a hookah. The seating in the upstairs cafe section is strange. It's raised, like a bed, but with carpet over a hard base, and carpeted cushions to lean against. Once mounted on there, I found it surprisingly comfortable. The hookah, or shish, as they called it, was fed regularly with lemon and mint fuel, which made for a very smooth smoke. I even imagined that it performed its stated function of aiding digestion. It certainly did not taste like tobacco, or like the weird hallucinogenic stuff I had one time in Egypt. I don't feel the need to go and buy cigarettes today, so it must have been relatively harmless.
After our ordered cappuccino, which either was, or at least appeared to us by now to be very nice indeed, they decided to bring us some Persian tea. This is drunk black, of course, and those who take sugar are invited to hold the sugar in their mouth and let the tea wash over it, rather than stirring it into the rich amber liquid as the Egytians do. Lizz made it through a cup, I sank nearly two. That was enough. Whatever was in the pot was gaining in strength fast, and I thought it best to send it back quick, before it gained the ability to fight back physically. A fearsome brew, to be sure.
So, as our evening seemed over, we gazed at the glowing shish embers and toyed in a desultory fashion with the notion of asking for the bill. Our generous and constantly smiling hosts had other ideas, and swiftly brought us out some traditional Persian rice pudding. On a sponge base and made with cardamon and cinnamon as well as rice, it was another fascinating glimpse of cuisine foreign to our own. OK, so it was not particularly nice, but that ain't everything.
We left, after a second cappuccino and a major shock when the bill came. It all came to just over thirty quid. It wasn't just the fine food, or even the polite and attentive service. It was the feeling that we had been welcomed into someone else's place from a completely different culture, and given the opportunity to enjoy a generous night of food and relaxation with them.
We both left on something of a high, and the fondness of the memory remains today. Arya is an exceptional restaurant and cafe. It deserves to thrive. If you are ever in the Huddersfield area of West Yorkshire in the UK, you could do a lot worse than turn up there for a meal. No absolute need to book, they'll move heaven and earth to fit you in, and I have a feeling that they'll make you feel as welcome as we did.
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