It was late one cold December night in 01.  We were walking around the neighborhood near our hotel looking for a place to dine.  When we saw the sign for the Afghan Kebab House from across the street.  There was no way we could be so close and not explore it.  We love Afghani food and there are no Afghani restaurants within hundreds of miles of our home town of Rochester, NY.  We crossed the street read the menu on the window and looked inside.  We were hooked.  The restaurant was small, cozy, and authentic looking with Afghani artifacts hanging on the walls.  We had already picked where we were going to eat that night, but would return.

We returned the following cold windy evening.  The weather must have been similar to Afghanistan's at this time of year.  As we approached the restaurant a group of four diners were just coming out the door.  I asked them if the food was good.  Everyone in the group chimed in to say what a wonderful meal they had.  They even offer some suggestions on what to order.  The one suggestion that everyone was enthusiastic about was the Bolanee Pumpkin turnovers.

We were graciously seated by an attractive young woman whose remembered characteristics were a warming smile, beautiful black hair, and small dainty fingers.  Restaurateurs could learn a lot from this young woman.  She knew intuitively how to make a customer feel welcome and comfortable.  We would call on her talents again when we ordered.

We asked our server, the same woman who seated us, what she would suggest from the menu.  She was quick to make recommendations based on her experience.  Every suggestion resulted in an order.  Every item ordered was splendid.  Remembering how often I have been read a list of specials by servers who had never tasted them, it was was pleasure to hear a server speak about food with experience and good taste.  Instead of telling you exactly what we had, I suggest you put yourself in the hands of the server and try new things.  You will not be disappointed.

Because the restaurant is small and the tables so close together it is impossible not to become aware of conversations at nearby tables.  At the table next to us was a party of three.  There were two men and one woman.  A very loud voiced man and his wife were out to dinner with an older man who, it seemed, was a famous classical musician.  Their dinner experience degenerated when the bill arrived.  First, the guest discovered that he was not being taken to dinner as expected.  Next, the credit card machine at the restaurant had stopped functioning.  Lastly, the couple did not have enough cash to pay everyone's bill.  This situation lead to a conversation what would have been valuable for a playwright to hear.  There was much embarrassment, finagling, face saving, and misplaced frustration going on for some time.  The loud man started criticizing the restaurant for having small portions and for not having a working credit card machine.  He was wrong about the portions, they were large enough to share.  I can't say for sure, but it appeared that the after all of the loud fuss, the couple didn't leave a tip.  Our server was obviously hurt by the rude behavior, but still managed a smile for us.

We finished our meal with another recommendation from our server.  She said that their Firnee, Afghan pudding made of milk, sugar cornstarch and rosewater, sprinkled with crushed pistachios, was exceptional.  She was right again. 

We had such a enjoyable dinner that we didn't want to leave.  We would have liked to stay longer and enjoy the hospitality and more of the food, but the hour was late and the restaurant was closing.  When we return to NYC we will be faced with difficult task of deciding whether to eat at new restaurants or ones like the Afghan Kebab House where we know we will have a great meal in pleasant surroundings with a wonderful server.  My guess is that we will go back to the Afghan Kebab House.

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