Food: A Taste of Pakistan in London

Last summer, I had the privilege of flying to England to visit a friend.

England has a dining culture held in distaste by most here in the United States. Those who haven’t crossed the pond fear they’ll be subject to a strict diet of fried fish and chips, disparaging mouthwatering shepherd’s pies and a variety of puddings. However, the highlight of traditional English dining is the beer, which complements the food to an extent far superior to the States.

Traditional English fare isn’t anything to celebrate, but it’s also nothing to scoff at. It was two trips to the ghetto outskirts of London that I will never forget.

My friend and I got on the tube to Whitechapel with an assortment of IPAs, a Stella bomber and a couple ciders. We arrived in a rather sad setting in East London, dominated by boarded shop fronts and neon signs advertising low-interest loans. My friend pulled me into a side street and up a rather busy sidewalk where she had apparently traveled recently. We arrived at a glowing sign that read “Tayyabs,” an establishment that changed my attitudes about dining forever.

Tayyabs is a restaurant owned by two sons of a man from Lahore, Pakistan, who came to London in 1972. Their cuisine is built around the rich Punjabi heritage. Tayyabs brings a Pakistani dining experience to London unlike any I’ve tasted, and trumps all of my ethnic dining experiences.

We shuffled through the packed doorway into an even more cramped host-station. Employees in all black garb dodged both impatient and enduring patrons. Inside, it was humid and loud. We grabbed menus from the host stand and my friend pointed out things I needed to try, her favorites. I waited, arm tired from lugging our booze around the city, to be seated.

After half an hour we were seated at a long train of two-person tables with another pair of friends seated next to us. We immediately cracked open the beer and cider. We surveyed the menu again and ordered our naan, a breed of airy flatbread presented with three mind-blowing sauces. Next came skillets of tandoori chicken and a skewer of chicken tikka masala. These dishes take a usually bland meat and transform it into a spice-packed punch to the face. Combined with the noise and heat, Tayyabs’ offerings gave me a sweaty brow and huge smile. The libations that we consumed in some speed also added to the buzz of the place.

It was the style of dining, though, that made the greatest impression on me. Tayyabs allows customers to bring their own beverages, so whether it’s a bottle of wine or a few brews, you’re allowed to pair your favorite drink with the rich Punjabi experience.

Tayyabs is the busiest restaurant I’ve ever been to or heard of. Patrons are asked to dine in an allotted time and leave in a timely manner so that the line extending out the door remains at a reasonable length. Hundreds of people are packed like Tic-Tacs into the colorful dining rooms. It’s loud, it’s hot and it’s fun.

We chatted with the guys sitting at our table and laughed together as a cockroach made its way up the wall behind us. Our attention was only lost on the insect for seconds before we were back to our dinner. That moment sold the entire experience for me. The excellence in front of my friend and I and our new friends led to a disregard for the vilest insect on earth.

We paid a bill too modest for the experience and left for the tube. Two days later we returned to Fieldgate Street to experience Tayyabs one more time before I flew home.

But you don’t have to fly all the way to London to get grub like this. I recommend Bombay Cafe on 601 N. College for innovative, affordable Indian food. The tandoori set-up and chicken tikka masala are authentic and similar to what I had abroad.