If you have eaten at Sofreh, a four-year-old Persian restaurant on brownstone in Brooklyn, you’re most likely familiar with its mast-o musir-style yogurt dip. The first things you see are slices of dried thyme, wild Iranian shallots, prized for their mild yet distinct garlic scent. Beneath this is a layer of yoghurt enriched with musk. It has a rich taste that reminds you of custard and a sour taste that makes your mouth water.
One of the original chefs at Sofreh, Ali Saboor, recently opened his own Persian restaurant in Brooklyn. Its name is EyelidIts neighborhood is Bushwick and its yogurt is even tastier.
Eyval has its own spin on mast-o musk, topped with some musk soaked in a pool of spicy turmeric oil. But the restaurant’s larger contribution to promoting yogurt growth in New York City lies in Mr. Saboor’s rethinking of another yogurt dip, or dipping sauce, called borani.
A typical borani dish consists of folding cooked eggplant or another vegetable into gooey yogurt. The vegetables in Eyval’s boranis tend to be some sort of seasonal dish, such as tilapia grilled in brown butter or small, green fava beans that are seasoned with mint and they’re not mixed into yogurt. They sit on top of it, in a little, pothole-like depression that I make in my mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving so the gravy will have a place to go.
Concentrating the vegetables in the center means that any swipe of bread on the borani will yield an undiluted, plain yogurt that can be appreciated on its own. I’ve enjoyed many yogurt dips in my life, but the borani at Eyval might be the first yogurt dip that I feel like craving.
I mention this not only because I hope you will try borani at Eyval, but also because it illustrates some of the ways Mr. Saboor, expanded on Persian themes that he first explored at Sofreh .
There, he started by helping Nasim Alikhani, an owner, prepare stews, fragrant basmati rice plates and other recipes that had many friends invited to her home. He has cooked in restaurants; she didn’t. At Eyval which opened in March with financial support from Theodore Petroulas, husband of Alikhani and her partner in Sofreh, Mr. Saboor turned his attention from home to the street, especially the barbecue that is eaten all over Iran. .
A follow-up restaurant that focuses on street food might suggest simpler menus, easier recipes, and more restrained flavors. None of that applies at Eyval. Portions are generally small; A single skewer makes one serving. But behind each plate is an understanding of how Persian ingredients like black lime and blueberries create small flavors, as well as a sense of certainty about when a few drops of rose water will enchant and when. high sour taste of undercooked food. grapes are just the thing.
Eyval’s chicken kebab is more than just a piece of meat. This is a reimagining of zereshk polo sago, the trusty combination of basmati rice, chicken stew and raspberries that have quenched hungry diners at countless Persian dinners. Bake until the chicken skin is golden crispy and smoky. On top is fried onions and a few dried blueberries, below is a chicken-tomato broth, fragrant with saffron. All the right things are there, down to the separate plate of rice, but they come together in new ways.
On the other hand, koobideh is undeniably a piece of meat. But what kind of meat is that? Mr. Saboor grinds lamb shoulder and beef brisket, a fatty meat many chefs rely on to create a homemade burger. Minimally seasoned, it makes for a soft, almost unbelievably delicate kebab.
Then the mushroom kebab. It’s not meat, nor is it served on a stick, but it might be the most interesting thing on the menu. King trumpet mushrooms are grilled until they are caramelized and juicy like sea scallops. They are paired with pickled oak mushrooms, and the two are tied together with a creamy lentil stew. From these purely earthen elements, Mr. Saboor created something elegant.
The background is a corner building scrawled in graffiti next to a vintage clothing store. Opposite the restaurant, facing a parking lot, is Roberta’s, brings the dynamic, ingredient-conscious mini-disc brand to the region for the first time. Until last month, the Eyvalians ran a Persian teahouse next door, the Sofreh cafe, where delicious baked goods like glazed pirashki filled with rose water custard would appear throughout the day.
Some of these items are left in the cafe. On certain nights, a meal at Eyval can start with a small, lightly sweet komaj loaf and dipped in cumin seeds. There’s almost always barbari, the essential Persian flatbread, long oval, slotted with sesame seeds and nigella seeds dipped in its crispy crust. Among other things, the barbari is an ideal utensil for scooping yogurt.
The kitchen, organized around two charcoal grills, sits between two of Eyval’s dining rooms like a hinge. One room has a cocktail bar and the other has a blank wall on which is an old concert exiled Iranian pop star Googoosh often shown. Both rooms are subway tiled and can make horrible noises when full. And, like many restaurants today, Eyval sometimes falls short of its serving goals, so your experience at the table may not be up to the standards set by the cooking team.
Its achievements are not only barbecue. There were chunks of Persian cucumber, sticky with date molasses covered with a thick smoky layer of Urfa pepper. Watermelon and feta salad, a popular Sofreh dish, is tart and citrusy under the fine powder of dried lime. In potato tahdig, tender saffron rice sits underneath a layer of thin, crispy, golden rectangular slices of potato to form an upside-down tet cake topped with starch.
While Eyval emphasizes crunchy, crunchy and quick-cooking ingredients, it has a few braised dishes that are among the most traditional on the menu. There’s ghormeh sabzi, chopped herbs and greens simmered with fenugreek into a dark, aromatic paste and served with a large chunk of veal, cut across the bone as if for osso buco. Gheymeh bademjan, lamb stew seasoned in tomato ketchup with unripe grapes, garnished with a roasted eggplant and a pile of chips. Naturally, this comes with rice.
I can’t be the only one hoping that the dessert menu will grow to include some of the most famous dishes from Sofreh Cafe. Until then, there’s a fragrant yoghurt cake with rose water and the most appealing one is a thick piece of saffron cream sandwiched between two raisin cookies.
