Sometimes the stars aligns and you find a really good thing conveniently located close to you doorstep.

Such a thing is the Joon Persian Supper Club, by one of my favourites chefs in the form of Leyli Homayoonfar, popping up at the Potting Shed at Insole Court (which is just around the corner from my pad).

The menu looked an absolute doozy,

with me being a big fan of Persian food, principally due to Leyli, and 4 of us duly booked in to go on the first weekend.

I even, though a friend who knows Leyli much better than I, managed to wangle corkage (although wine pairing with the menu was a bit of a challenge with so much going on), which is always a brucey bonus.

The format was the dreaded (for the introvert in me, sure some love it) communal dining with 2 long tables at the top and  bottom of the Potting Shed.

As well as this being an anathema to my introvert personality, it did cause some issues in terms of where to put the stuff (as you will see there was an awful lot of it) on the table when you took into account the cosy nature of the seating arrangement (bit of a squish) and the liberally use of candles, lanterns etc ( with my innate clumsiness I was mildly and pleasantly surprised that I didn’t set the place on fire) on the tables. All easily managed mind (especially if, unlike me, you are a sociable type), with a bit of shuffling of stuff around but things did at times seem to get lost in the melee in terms what was whose.

Onto the food, the first part (can’t really called it a course) was akin to a mezze type affair with a procession of little dishes and a large hunks of bread and other bits and bobs.

Leaving aside the bread, which was on dip duty,  two things on the platter really stood out for me. Firstly the carrots, which look just like bog standard crudites. They offer a surprise zing, being pickled, with the acidity working really well with the natural sweetness of the carrot and operated as a rather good palate cleanser between the various dips (more on those in a mo). Secondly the zaytoon parverdah was a relevation. Briney olives were coated in a paste of crushed walnuts,  pomegranate (seeds and molasses) and aromatic herbs. which provided for lovely contrasts of sour, sweet, salty and bitter. So much going on without anything overwhelming, I absolutely loved these. The menu also suggested pickled radishes, but I didn’t see/get any.

Lots of walnuts and feta also accompanied the pickles and bread, which even before the dips provided an abundance of food.

To go with the bread, very good in its own right, we got a procession of dips.

First up was a aubergine number, which was heady with char from the cooking of the aubergine, infused with tangy tomatoes and enriched with egg yolk. Crispy, fried shallots added a nice textural contrast.

A tangy and creamy labneh was taken to another level with the salty savouriness of preserved lemons, lemony tanginess of sumac and the refreshing qualities of a rather dayglo herb oil and shredded cucumber.

The star of the dip show, however, was a beetroot and feta number

This was the prefect combo of earthy, salty, sweet, sour and savoury.  Jewels of pomegranate and whole hazelnuts provided a pleasing crunch and a slick of burnt butter gave it a nice hit of nutty caramel.

All made for a rather nice smorgasbord of tasty treats.

There was apparently a hummus dish, but I never saw it in the melee of this course, with each element shared between two (in theory) it obviously got lost somewhere along the line/on the table. Perils of communal dining, I suppose.

I paired this lot (tricky to pair with so much going on) with a Flor de Muga (Spanish) rosado,

with its acidity, red fruit flavours and just a touch of sweetness working well with the spices and diverse flavours on display here.

On to the mains, with chicken in the form of khoresht porteghal

Lovely dish this, with beautifully tender chicken and a pleasing sweetness provided by oranges, pops of sourness from barberries and a lovely hit of warming spice.  Proper comfort food this.

This was followed by another winter warmer in the form of a ghormeh sabzi, a lamb dish often considered to be Iran’s national dish.

The richness of the lamb was complimented by the sour tang of the dried limes (oddly my kitchen seems to have the perfect humidity to produced dried limes, just leave them in the fruit bowl and voila, and as a result I use them alot). Fenugreek added a lick of bitterness and a generous scattering of herbs (coriander and parsley, I think) a touch of freshness. My only, very minor, quibble with this dish was I found it just a tad salty for my tastes and on balance I preferred the chicken. Both good mind.

With the mains there were various condiments

with the star of that show a nicely refreshing salad shirazi (the tomato one in picture).

A load of buttery saffron rice (tahdig),

had a lovely crunchy caramelised top to it and was a very good adjunct to both the lamb and chicken dishes.

I paired this with Syrian red (from the only operating wine producer in Syria, for how much longer I wonder with the current regime), which was a blend of syrah, merlot and cabernet sauvignon.

Lots of spice and intense black fruit, as well as black olive and herbal notes. Really good wine this that worked a treat with the food and (rather blowing my own trumpet) I thought it was a rather inspired pairing.

By this stage of proceeding I was pretty stuffed, but the allure of a dessert containing  Persian candyfloss meant I dug in.

Very interesting (in a good way) combination of textures and flavours this, with citrus (blood orange and grapefruit) to the fore and a really nice crunch from the crystallised pistachios and kataifi. More jewelled pomegranate seeds added both colour and pops of both sweet and tart.

I paired this with a French, late harvest, noble rot driven, sweet wine made from the rarely heard of Loin de L’Oeil grape

Lots of rich fruit in the mix here, with both apricot and baked quince. Nice level of acidity as against the sweetness, so it was in no way cloying.

It worked very well with the dessert, if I say so myself.

We did get a final course, which was a sort of sponge cake type affair. We were so stuffed at this stage that we got it boxed up to eat the next day. Very nice it was too, the next morning, with rosewater to the fore (but not too dominant).

The verdict

As I understand it, hospitality with Persians is a deep rooted principle with food at its heart. I believe it is called taarof.

What we got at the Joon Persian Supper club seemed to me to be a perfect example of this, with a joyful meal of abundance in terms of both flavour and proportions.

For the price (about £67 a head, inc a £2 booking fee) it seemed a bit of bargain to me (especially as I was able to bring my own booze).

For those going next weekend, lucky you, there is booze (beer and wine) to buy onsite.

The details

Whilst the orginal dates sold out very quickly,

new one are up

and can be booked via Tickettailor.