He tried to guide me to the buffet—oh, how he tried. “This is our most popular option for lunch,” the kind, fast-talking server at Wrap N' Roll Kabob House in Brea told me. House music in a subcontinental language played in the background, as he pointed out the curries, the naan, the gulab jamun and tandoori chicken—an epic Indian spread, ready for the lunchtime rush. “You get a great big meal for cheap!”
I wasn't convinced. “Gimme a menu,” I replied, then quickly scanned the offerings. I lingered on the magic word: “How's your nihari?”
The man stopped. His eyes widened. “It's the best thing we have. It's amazing—soft, super-spicy, a great deal!” And then he stopped again. “You know nihari?”
Of course. Nihari is Pakistan's national dish, as essential to their national identity as birria is to Mexicans and pho to Vietnamese. It's lava in a bowl: beef cooked until it turns into a mass of tendrils in an oily, thick broth studded with ginger and jalapeño slivers. Each ingredient wraps around your tongue and sets it on multiple fires: the steaming beef, the heat of the chiles, the zing of the ginger. What a magnificent meal . . . in Brea?
“People here really don't like spicy dishes,” the man explained as I dove into the nihari, washing it down with a magnificent drink of watermelon juice spiked with rosewater. “They want tikka this and lassi that.” And so the restaurant's front finally made sense: from the Indian buffet (delicious) to the unwieldy name (sounds more appropriate for a vendor at Titan Student Union) to the décor (Meredith Viera's new show aired on the flat-screen TV in the center of the dining room), Wrap N' Roll masks its Pakistani heart to reassure eaters in Brea, a city that wouldn't know its Urdu from its Urban Outfitters. But it's there, from the hamburger-esque shaami kebab to the biryanis, the karhai to shashlik and that wonderful nihari.
The restaurant filled up, all with buffet eaters. As I left, the owner shot me a knowing smile. Same time next week, same nihari, m'kay?
