Sultan, the recent high-end, no-tipping Pakistani restaurant on Williamson Street, wholly remade the former Roman Candle Pizzeria space, giving it a refined but comfortable feel.
Chef/owner Sultan Ahmed, who opened the restaurant May 23, uses the huge floor-to-ceiling windows to their greatest advantage, offering a panoramic view of Mother Fool’s Coffeehouse, kitty-corner.
What feels recent is a menu that offers so many intriguing options, with innovative food similar to Indian cuisine. My companion and I avoided the unidentified brain and mushroom raviolo in favor of the murgh pulao ($16), a dish that didn’t exactly scream Pakistani or Indian, but instead was deliciously understated with a tender bone-in braised chicken thigh and rice treated with chicken broth.
Better was the nihari ($18), braised beef shank with ginger and cilantro and a medium spice level. The lean beef had fallen of the bone, which was served in the center, still lending its marrow to the stew.
The tandoori salmon ($26), like all of the dishes I’ve had at Sultan, was a work of art. It had cucumber curls on top and sat in a zingy tomato and onion masala with ginger lime dressing and yogurt sauce. The piece of fish was compact, but had excellent flavor. It was crispy on the outside and tender inside.
I had those three dishes during a meal in slow August. They’re not on the current menu, but look for them turning up as specials. Ahmed said the nihari was popular and will be back on the upcoming winter menu along with the murgh pulao. He’s unsure about the salmon, which was a special on my more recent visit.
The brain dish was on the menu during both of my visits. It turned out to be veal brain with porcini mushrooms inside the pasta, served with a mushroom sauce and pickled red onions.
Ahmed said it’s not a huge seller, but he gets about five orders for it a week. He said brain is common in Pakistani cuisine and is traditionally a breakfast food. “That’s our elevated take on it.”
What was elevated for me was the giant garlic naan, a bargain at $2. The broad, puffy bread came out warm, about the size of a personal pizza.
It was the superstar of the meal, more doughy than most naan, ably soaking up sauces from the other dishes. It was ponderous on the salt, reminding my companion of a pliable ballpark pretzel. He said it was the best naan he’d ever had, and the same was true for me.
Sultan had a stand at the Willy Street Fair selling potato chaat with chickpeas for $5. It was a perfectly zingy treat, so I was ecstatic to see aloo chaat ($8) on the menu recently. It was an expanded version of the street snack and beautifully plated, the velvety potato fritter mashed and surrounded by chickpea masala, small cubes of mango, and onion jam.
The plate was enhanced both visually and culinarily by mint and tamarind chutneys and sweet yogurt.
The aloo bhindi ($12), aloo the word for potato, took wonderfully sautéed Yukon Gold potato chunks and added okra that had been sliced on an angle. They sat on top of a savory cauliflower purée that was fantastic, but skimpy.
The chukandar aur sabzi shahi korma ($16) was a mouthful in every sense. Warm red and golden beets showed up in huge chunks and were bathed in a generous and delicious shadowy gravy that made a vegetarian dish look like a meat one. Potatoes, carrots, cashews, pistachios and cilantro were also in the mix.
The Kashmiri chai ($5) with green tea, rose syrup, spices, pistachio and milk had a flavor that didn’t speak to me, but my companion liked it, saying it “engages all the sinuses in a pleasant way.”
The cocktail list is among the most intriguing I’ve seen, but I had mixed feelings about the drink that leads the list, A Night on the Silk Road ($16), which is the most pricey cocktail I’ve ordered anywhere, and one of the sweetest. It was novel in that it came in a cone-shaped glass that sat in a bigger, rounded glass full of caramel corn, which I ate for dessert.
The drink had gin, saffron, rosemary, lime juice, fig syrup, orange bitters and tonic. Toward the end, I poured some of my water into it and found it a lot better watered down.
On my most recent visit, I sat at the bar, which offered a great view of Ahmed, who attended culinary school at Madison Area Technical College, busily preparing food in the kitchen with two other cooks.
The jazz playing over the sound system on a ponderous Monday night gave the room a sophisticated feel. On my first visit, for a 1 p.m. weekend lunch, hip-hop and pop music gave off a more playful vibe.
I had the same attentive server both times. He explained that Sultan serves compact plates meant for sharing and also described the no-tipping policy. Credit card receipts provide no line for a tip.
Ahmed, who pays his servers well, said one or two customers a night leave a tip because “they can’t help themselves.”
He said the response to the policy has been overwhelmingly positive, especially from takeout customers who appreciate not having to deal with the awkwardness of whether they should tip when they pick up food.
“I think people who come here love it,” Ahmed said. “They love the idea.”
Taken as a whole, beyond the issue of tipping, from the food to the service to the ambiance, there’s a lot to love.