To the right of the waiters' station as you enter Berenjak's second outpost in Borough Market there is a sepia-hued photo amongst the decorative clutter on the wall.

It shows a young woman wearing a light-coloured chador holding a 1980s-era boombox on her shoulder, her other hand placed mildly defiantly on her hip.

She stands, feet socked, on a rug in front of what appears to be a vintage-kitsch interior with elaborately ornate trims and finishes while she looks down the barrel of the camera blankly.

The image, created by Tehran-based artist and photographer Shadi Ghadirian, represents the artist's belief that she as an Iranian woman is trapped between tradition and modernity.

The image is familiar in some ways and strange in others; both new and old and its place in time is lost in the confusion - is it the ghetto-box that dates the image, or is it the most modern thing in the tableau?

Also, it's just a great image to look at.

In a similar way, Berenjak is a burr of modernity and tradition, and irrespective of that, a great place for a meal.

While the Soho site is a take on Tehran's kebab houses, all tile and creatively distressed decor, the Borough Market outpost is dressed up with the romanticism of a Persian townhouse - warm and inviting, like a pair of non-ratty slippers.

It's a fairly busy interior, no minimalism here, but there is lots to look at on the wall and gems to stumble across such as Ghadririan's photo.

Up the wrought iron stairs, the dining room is compact with dark, embellished walls. At ground level, sleek counter seating runs the length of the window and wraps around the kitchen so you can watch the chefs at work and the taftoon and barbari breads bake, which has a novelty to it, despite sounding as interesting as watching paint dry.

The restaurant is by Gymkhana and Brigadiers chef Kian Samyani and JKS Restaurants, the group presiding over BAO and Hoppers, two chains that also put a slightly hipster riff on age-old cuisines, and which are also very good.

It's no surprise Berenjak is a good restaurant. Not just because Berenjak Soho is Bib Gourmand, but because kebabs are as much of a treat at 3am as they are in the sober hours.

There are few greater comfort foods, in my books, than a kebab. Especially a fancy one that comes with a smattering of little sides and accompaniments cluttering up your spot at the bar, as these ones did.

Before the mains arrived, it was cocktails and mezze. We mopped up dishes of blitzed plant matter with fresh bread, hot out of the tandoor - one a slab, the other a balloon puff of dough.

The Kashk E Bademjoon - a muddle of coal-cooked aubergine, whey, walnuts and onion - was both smokey and creamy and came with a bit of crunch, and the mound of hummus that arrived on our table was thick and dense.

Had I been a bourbon drinker, I would have tried the tahini old fashioned because it made the mind boggle. But I'm not, so I tried a watermelon shumpine (if you say it out loud, it's a little Kath and Kim), which I could have drunk all night.

The wine list, by the way, is a decent size and focuses on drops from Turkey, Georgia and around the Middle East, some of which are available by the glass.

Already feeling on our way to full, the mains arrived in ornate, low level glitzy dishes.

A bowl of little pickled cucumbers and a dish of torshi - pickled mixed veg - filled in the gaps on the table between the remaining mezze and hefty chunks of juicy chicken drizzled with lemon, as well as saffron rice and a tomatoey aubergine stew with crunchy bits of something sprinkled on the top for a bit texture.

It was a lot of food which is fine by me, and although completely stuffed, we shared a slice of dessert - a cake with layers of flaky pastry and cream - because when the food is good and vibe is right, you don't really want dinner to end.

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