Sabri Nehari

A sure way to empathize with people is to share their food. It brings a uniqueness to a culture that is palpable, a sensory connection that helps with an understanding of what a place may be like.

I have been waiting to review Sabri Nehari for several months and ended up eating there a week before the earthquake in Pakistan. I ate there this past weekend again. The food is terrific.

To me Pakistani food in general is a bit different that Indian. Northern Indian and Southern Indian are very different also. But to keep it simple I would note that Pakistani food is usually oil based like Northern Indian where, usually, Indian has lots of dairy, yogurt, etc.

At the tail end of the review of the sukiyake at Sunshine Cafe I had hoped that Sabri would be half as good... It's better.

The vegetable samosas are huge cones of dough, more like a pakora, with an awesome - but spicy - potato-veggie filling. The beef samosas are also spicy and very good with a thinner crispier shell. They will let you get two of each in an order instead of four of the same.

The Nehari is as good as I remember it being. It's chunks of braised beef in a gravy that has a wonderful demi-glace-ginger-fusion quality that is fragrant, rich and spicy. It is totally unique and wonderful.

The chicken makhani is dangerous. It is chicken with a butter sauce. It arrives looking like orange-salmon colored paint. I don't know whether it's the red curry or a coriander flavor or something but it is marvelous. My co-eater is a Chicken Tikka Masala connoisseur and says this is a better dish. It is super rich but wonderful.

The portions are very good, and the service is excellent. The attention is given to the food and while the decor is not the point the ambiance is there. It is an authentic dining experience down to the prohibition of alcohol. No BYOB allowed.

Sabri Nehari
2511 W. Devon
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Comments

[Sunail]

I wrote this after eating butter chicken at Sabree in Chicago, IL, USA:

"Would you like a refill on your water, sir?" the waiter politely asked as I waited in intense anticipation for the arrival of my order of a hot, fresh, delicious, satisfying plate of butter chicken. I had been waiting for this day for months, ever since I booked my ticket to Chicago. I salivated as I clicked "confirm" on southwest.com to book my ticket. The fantasy and perversions of devouring a bite of butter chicken from Sabree restaurant wrapped in the hot, melting naan soaked in butter chicken ras aroused me a little. I quietly put my head down and pictured myself bathing in butter chicken ras.

I was eying the kitchen ever since the waiter had taken my order. It has been twenty minutes already and I knew any minute now by butter chicken would be arriving. A waiter exited the kitchen carrying a plate...a plate of biryani. "Come on," I thought to myself. "This is torture." All of a sudden my nose picked up a scent which was all too familiar. I had already beaten the 20 milliseconds that it took my olfactory nerve to process this scent and send it to my brain and I knew what it was. It was my long awaited order of butter chicken.

Okay, only 13 more steps until the waiter gets to my table. Please be careful. Wow, that was so close...he almost tripped on that lady's purse. 8 more steps now. 5, 4, 3...wait...where is he going. He is going to the table next to mine. What the hell? They were here after me. How can this be possible. It felt like the waiter had taken a big sharp knife and stuck it in my chest and ripped my heart out whole. I couldn't swallow. My eyes teared up. My knees got week. I wanted to kill myself. I looked down in agony.

All of a sudden I heard arguing. "That is not what we ordered!" the guy with the turban on his head yelled in an Indian accent. Joy. Happiness. Ecstasy. This is what I felt after I saw the waiter coming towards me. I could not wait any longer. I jumped out of my chair, grabbed the plate from the waiter's hands, and devoured the butter chicken while still standing. Some of it fell on the ground. I licked it clean. I licked the plate clean. I have never felt this satisfied in my life. It was like Harold and Kumar when they finally get to White Castle. There is no where in the whole world (Hawaii, Jamaica, etc) or nothing else I would rather be doing (sex) than eating butter chicken at that moment. Thank you Sabree. Without you there is nothing to live for.

-an anonymous fan

[josh]

Yep... I'm riding that cheetah with you.
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