Discover Iranish Iranian Restaurant for Authentic Persian Flavors
At Iranish, I felt how the Iranian diaspora, Iranians, and the Persian spirit turn a simple table into a vibrant, fragrant memory, mixing sumac, saffron, black lime, and even sanjak the way stories from Iran, Old Damascus, Al-Hamidiyah Souq, and the Umayyad Mosque mix with my travels through Ipanema Beach, Copacabana, Cuba, Trinidad Carnival, Iceland, and its glaciers. It reminded me of friends who spoke of home, country, past, future, and the diaspora while sipping Laurent Perrier, Seb teasing us about caipirinhas, and someone laughing about Ozempic over ice cream and food.
Here, conversations wander from beaches, bar hopping, and cigarettes to paragliding, Halloween, the world, women, human rights, and even troubles seen in High Street Kensington, Dubai, and distant stores, yet the Iranian Restaurant charm called Iranish pulls all lovers of flavor back to the fragrant comfort of Persian plates.
Iranish Iranian Restaurant’s menu
At Iranish Iranian Restaurant in Dubai, I followed a friend’s “word of mouth” tip, and my appetite immediately leaned toward the rich Iranian food and classic Persian flavours I remember from a colleague who once returned from Iran with stories of smoky grills and soft rice. The menu feels like stepping into an auntie’s house, with its wood tables, beige and grey tones, mounted tapestries, and that slightly semi-finished, just-moved-in charm—almost like a garden centre with a waterless fountain humming near the dining room speakers.
I enjoyed tasting through the 20 items spread across starters, salads, mains, sides, and desserts, especially the fresh Iranish salad with kiwi, cucumber, and celery, plus the smokey mirza ghasemi of aubergine, tomato, and egg. The juicy joojeh chicken and plentiful platters—some with walnuts and pomegranate—felt generous without an extra charge, and I even noticed neighbouring tables asking the waitress about the chef and how he cooks such perfectly charred kebabs. During Friday lunch, the vibe turns lively, especially when Novan brings out bright magenta plates that somehow make the slightly twee, homely experience even better.
Iranish Iranian Restaurant’s food
I admirably remember warning myself, That’s truly enough after ordering few dishes—the vine-wrapped dolmas came out, and I felt Shame next time I don’t pace myself; then an unexpected vegetable soup arrives, fortified with plump barley and meaty broth from lamb stock, a comforting and warming bowl, deserving a good cold blanket hockey puck of weather outside.
The Kashk Badmejoon slides, a dense puree aubergine with yoghurt whey ripples, dried mint, and a delicious gummy chew, golden fried onions scattered top that kind sticks teeth best possible way; I pull apart Friable soft planks Barbari bread, dragged through each portion, easily shared between two, especially when surprise soups turn up alongside Mast khiar spiced cucumber dip-cum-ointment, dressed looks rose petals verdant, which lubricates insides antacid for the meat feasts to come.
I once wanted to ask funeral directors embalm face least three days before open-casket because the people hold each other close mutter adoringly youthful appearance after eating the duo Soltani kebabs, fresh minced fatty rich tender morsels, large enough your back have time pelted plenty sprightly citric sumac, on a personal mission stab press plate gather leaving none behind; There one person conceivably share may not want rice stained tell-tale bright yellow signal liberal spooning saffron kitchen cook unsure quibble comes foiled-wrapped butter usually get airlines against roll unyielding cause bodily harm bring bit moustached grill chef bears more than passing resemblance video game’s final boss Dario Cecchini he can cook.
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