ecently, a friend and I happened to pay a spontaneous visit to Gadrung, a tiny eatery functioning in DHA, Lahore. Being a Punjabi I had no idea what to expect when I learnt that it was a Hyderabadi restaurant. However, I must admit that I left feeling full, comfortable and somewhat surprised.

The moment I stepped in, I noticed the artwork on the walls. These pieces were made by none other than the chef-owner, Shireen Bano Rizvi, who has been a painter for over twenty years. Rizvi also has a passion for traditional cooking. Gadrung was started in the memory of her late nani. It’s a tribute to the traditional Hyderabadi flavours passed down through generations. (For the uninitiated, “gadrung” is a Hyderabadi term of endearment for grandmothers.)

Rizvi’s commitment to preserving family recipes and culinary techniques shines through her creations. Once inside the place, you can’t miss the aroma of masalas prepared in mustard oil. A blend of spices hit us too; it was as if we had entered our family kitchen.

The ambience was intimate and minimalist, with old fashioned furniture, traditional earthenware and subtle personal touches that reflected the owner’s emotional investment in the project.

We ordered a generous spread from the menu. It included bagharay tamatar, dum ka keema, khatti daal, mirchi ka saalan, khattay aalu and laal doshala with chilli oil. Every single dish was uniquely flavourful, mildly spiced and could have been even more generously plated. The balance of spices and textures was spot on for us Lahoris. I was expecting a heightened spice level; fortunately, that was not the case.

The food didn’t taste restaurant-made; it tasted home-made — comforting, balanced and not too oily or overwhelming flavour wise. It clearly did not disappoint. In fact, every bite tasted like it had been made with patience, care and love.

The khubani ka meetha was a unique take on dessert, served chilled and topped with layers of cream. It was rich, tangy, with just the right amount of sweetness.

We ended the meal with doodh patti, which would do better with jaggery and charming vintage-style teacups. The tea, however, was fragrant, strong and milky; just the way we preferred it.

The service at Gadrung was nice and the food was not overpriced. Besides, their staff was kind, attentive and humble. Even though we had not booked our table in advance, they accommodated us with grace. (I strongly recommend reserving ahead, as seating is limited and the space tends to fill up fast.)

What made the experience even more special was the personal attention. Rizvi greeted us with genuine warmth and briefly talked about how the restaurant was her way of honouring her nani’s Hyderabadi recipes.

Gadrung isn’t trying to reinvent Hyderabadi cuisine, she told us. It’s an attempt at preserving it. It is a place where food, memory and emotion come together. I guess each dish on the menu has a story to tell.

In the final analysis, Gadrung is not just a restaurant; it’s a deeply personal culinary experience.

Qurat Ul Ain Khalil is a lecturer at the Department of English Language and Literature at Kinnaird College, Lahore