Last time I ventured into the Kazbar I was wearing a wig and an interesting pair of flashing horns. There was a large chocolate cake involved as well as a breakdancing fireman who then stripped off...

But it was a rather blurred hen do to be honest — my own, as it happens — and still legendary.

This time around was moderately more sedate, although within minutes of arriving we were sat at the bar with a wonderfully decadent fig and vanilla daiquiri in hand, thanks to the manager Fabrice, who looks like a cross between Fidel Castro and Joaquin Phoenix.

The Kazbar has been on Cowley Road for 12 years now, becoming a landmark in its own right. One of the few restaurants Clinton Pugh has held on to, alongside Coco’s and Cafe Tarifa, it still does a roaring trade on a Friday night and every table was full.

Luckily we’d booked, so after another round of raspberry fizz cocktails we were led around the back of the still exotically decorated and mystically dark souk-style restaurant to our low table and seat loungers, where relaxation is the name of the game.

I’d brought Lucie from The Milkshed who hasn’t had a night out since opening in the spring, and her colour returned instantly thanks to the strength of her mohito, and the delight of the tapas menu.

Constantly tipped as some of the best tapas in the country, the Kazbar’s Spanish/Moroccan offerings are utterly authentic and were as delicious as always, little bowls of loveliness appearing in a constant procession, ready to soak up the great selection of cocktails we had imbibed.

There are lots of new additions to the menu, as well as some old favourites, and having been to Barcelona recently, I was more adventurous with my choices.

We ordered a ridiculous amount of food, a bottle of wine and sat back to enjoy ourselves in this oasis of fun where drinking and nibbling are the name of the game. Kicking off with some babaganoush (smoky aubergine dip that defies belief when done properly), houmous with crushed chilies and herb oil, we were in heaven, although they were served with French bread rather than pitta which was strangely out of kilter with the place and menu in terms of authenticity.

The two bowls of the ‘patatas con chorizo’, redeemed it immediately, one ordered greedily solely for myself, the others fast understanding how the delicious oily, pungent, smoky, waxy cubes of sausage and potato could win you over in a flash.

I could eat it straight from the saucepan in the restaurant kitchen if allowed.

A tiny plate of anchovies, the palpable tortilla with blue cheese and courgette special, the obligatory ‘patatas bravas’, the mind-numbingly good ‘cordere con calabaza’ (slow- cooked lamb in a herb and lemon sauce with butternut squash and peas) the ‘ibikha’ (braised butternut squash with chickpeas and harissa), and the ‘albondigas’ spiced beef and pork meatballs in a sherry, tomato and paprika sauce, all embraced us in a warm, autumnal, colourful, spicy, spellbinding eastern hug, enveloping us entirely in a Moorish cloud of good food, seamless staff, tinkling music and chattering clientele.

We shouldn’t have had pudding really after the amount we ate but the potito de chocolate, crème catalana pot and the special of the day — churros with chocolate sauce — which appeared and disappeared before you could say abracadabra, proved again that a bite of this and that suffices as much as our traditional three courses.

As the evening washed over me I decided I liked this way of dipping in and out of food, wine and conversation — it’s enlivening, refreshing and invigorating. Sadly however, it still doesn’t come close to a breakdancing fireman...

 

Kazbar
25-27 Cowley Road, Oxford, OX4 1HP
01865 202920
kazbar.co.uk

 

Opening times: 5pm to midnight Monday-Thursday; 5pm-12.30am Friday; noon –12.30am Saturday and noon—  11pm Sunday
Parking: A highly controversial subject and hot potato. You could always get the bus?
 Key personnel: Fabrice the manager and Clinton Pugh the owner
Make sure you try... A great selection of dishes, which are all priced between £3.50 and £5.95 except the £9.75 Iberian ham
In ten words: Like entering Never Never Land – it’s a whole new world