A London Uyghur Restaurant

‘She who delights the heart’ – this is at the centre of this matriarchal Uyghur restaurant and hints at their name translated from Uzbek. Women in vibrant hijabs whoosh past, arms laden with plates of equally vibrant dishes. The place is filled with Uzbekistani music. The smell of coriander and a native species of basil hangs in the air.

This restaurant’s mission is to ‘share warmth, comfort, and joy’ through their food with fresh ingredients and formal training in Ughur and Turkish cuisine. It is through their food that they are able to transport themselves those many miles back to their homeland, and you can go with them too.

The Uyghur community is a Turkic ethnic group culturally affiliated with Central and Eastern Asia. Historically, they have been inhabitants of the Taklamakan Desert and the Tarim Basin and subject to a host of polities, from the Mongols to the Chinese, Tibetans, and Turkish. From the tenth century onwards, they have been Islamised, and now most identify with Muslim beliefs.

After being seated, I talk more candidly with my host. I learn about the reason for their British presence and, ultimately, the start of their restaurant. “We were shunned from our home, my mother often chased by police for praying in public parklands.” He recalls the force-feeding he experienced by teachers at school during Ramadan. They were culturally bizarre, sat permanently on the outskirts with no opportunity to assimilate. This is the story of an ex-pact Uzbekistani family, once living in Western China, now relocated in London. Despite being nearly 5000 miles from China, they still fear the influence of its government and are concerned about upsetting their largely Chinese client base. As such, the host has asked to remain anonymous and the name of the restaurant to be obscured.

Their menu is a mix of curries, noodles, and dumplings. Succulent lamb is the main meat used in their dishes, as is tradition. I opted for the Tugur Dumplings (£13.95), which arrived steamy and fragrant. The waft of onion punctuates the comforting aroma of quality, Halal lamb. Paired with a soy sauce dressing with a chilli kick, it makes for a hearty meal. Washed down with a Chinese black iced tea (£3.50), which proved a light and refreshing accompaniment.

I glance over at the adjacent table, a dish has just been placed in front of a young, trendy couple. The woman’s eyes fill with delight at the golden noodle dish, peppered with deep red chilies, bold green spring onions, and topped with sprigs of coriander. The menu informs me that this is Uyghur oy Laghman (£9.95). The secret to the noodles’ golden hue, my host informs me, is the addition of turmeric as they’re hand pulled, the turmeric adding an additional complementary complexity. The dish is then completed with a zing of citrus and pop of cumin. The attention to detail in building a dish’s flavour profile, I hold, is how they convey their boasted comfort, warmth, and joy. It certainly delighted my heart.

Savouring my last few dumplings and absorbing the aromas of Central Asia, I finish: fat, dumb, and happy. Feeling a new affinity for Uyghur cuisine and culture, my host returns to my table to retrieve my plate. The genuineness of their smile anew is the final touch to my belly-warming experience of the restaurant and befitting of all that they have intended to encompass in their slice of home.