A cloudy afternoon often sharpens the appetite. Perhaps it is the diffused light, or the way the city seems to slow down just enough to invite indulgence. On such an afternoon, I found myself climbing up to a modest rooftop restaurant that promised something Dhaka does not often deliver convincingly: an authentic taste of Kashmir.

Waza is a dedicated Kashmiri and Awadhi cuisine restaurant, a pairing that makes culinary sense given the shared emphasis on slow cooking, aromatics and meat-forward dishes. Located at House 71, Road 11, Block D, Bond Centre, Dhaka, the restaurant aims to present these traditions with respect rather than reinvention.

The first impression was quietly reassuring. The rooftop was intimate rather than expansive, decorated with a careful hand. Warm wooden tones, soft fabrics and subtle motifs nodded to Kashmiri aesthetics without turning the space into a caricature. 

It felt curated, not themed. On a grey afternoon, the setting worked beautifully, creating a sense of retreat from the noise below.

We began, appropriately, with kahwa. Two cups arrived, steaming gently, their aroma preceding the first sip. The saffron-infused green tea was delicately perfumed, laced with nuts and lightly sweetened with honey. It was not aggressively spiced nor overly sweet — a restrained, elegant start. Kahwa, when done poorly, can feel medicinal — this did not.

Price: Tk195

The menu, mercifully, did not overwhelm. We decided to explore both sides of the kitchen's ambition: one platter rooted in Kashmir, the other drawing from Lucknow's celebrated kebab tradition. It was a sensible choice, offering a spectrum of flavours without excess.

The Lucknow kebab platter arrived first, and it was generous. Murg Tikka Angara sat proudly, charred just enough to promise smokiness without sacrificing moisture. The marinade had depth rather than heat, allowing the chicken's texture to remain the star. Alongside it was the Nawabi beef sheekh kebab — robust, well-seasoned and unmistakably indulgent. It carried the richness one expects from Awadhi cuisine, but without the heaviness that can dull the palate.

The tandoori fish tikka was a pleasant surprise. Often, fish in mixed platters feels like an afterthought. Here, it was flaky, subtly spiced, and grilled with confidence. The final item, the mutton galawati kebab, was the standout. True to its reputation, it was almost impossibly tender, collapsing at the slightest pressure. The spice blend was restrained — aromatic rather than fiery — reminding you that galawati kebabs are about balance and finesse, not bravado.

What made this platter particularly enjoyable was its departure from the familiar. These were not the usual Dhaka kebabs, aggressively spiced to appeal to a universal palate. Instead, the flavours trusted their own lineage. It was refreshing and quietly educational.

Price: Tk1,695 

Then came the centrepiece: the Waza Celebration Thali. Before discussing the food itself, it is worth pausing on the concept of Wazwan. In Kashmiri culture, Wazwan is not merely a meal but a social and ceremonial experience, traditionally comprising multiple courses, cooked with precision and served with pride. Presentation matters, but so does discipline.

The thali honoured that tradition. At its base was fragrant basmati zafrani rice, lightly tinted and aromatic, forming a comforting canvas for what followed. The spread was unapologetically meat-forward, as Wazwan should be.

The mutton kebab was straightforward and satisfying, offering a firm bite and clean flavours. Tabak Maaz followed — crisp on the outside and tender within — a culinary delight that balanced richness with restraint. Methi Maaz introduced a gentle bitterness from fenugreek leaves, cutting through the meat's fat and adding complexity. I particularly enjoyed the fish dishes.

Then came the gravies. The mutton rogan josh was deep red and aromatic, its colour achieved through traditional spices. Kashmiri red chillies are surprisingly mild, lending colour more than heat. The dish was robust without being aggressive. The gostaba, a white meatball curry, was luxurious and mellow, its yoghurt-based sauce smooth and comforting. In contrast, the rista — the red meatball curry — was bolder, spicier, and more assertive. The meatballs, made from mutton, were slightly chewy but paired beautifully with the gravy.

We ordered two naans to accompany the platters, and they proved a wise addition. Soft, warm, and unpretentious, they soaked up the gravies without stealing attention.

The restaurant's authenticity could be vouched for. Beside us sat a group of Kashmiri women, clearly enjoying their meal. That, in itself, felt like an endorsement.

That said, honesty demands nuance. Some spice profiles and flavours may feel unfamiliar — perhaps even challenging — to a Bangali palate. Kashmiri cuisine does not chase heat in the way we often expect, nor does it rely on the same spice combinations. For diners accustomed to localised versions of Kashmiri dishes, this may come as a surprise. But that difference is precisely the point. Personally, I found a few dishes — particularly some of the gravies — slightly off-putting.

We ended the meal with two glasses of kesari lassi. Thick, creamy, and mercifully not too sweet, it was a fitting conclusion. The sweetness was measured, allowing the dairy richness to shine. After such a meat-heavy feast, the lassi offered gentle closure.

Price: Tk2,095

No review is complete without addressing the less pleasant details. The service charge, unfortunately, felt on the higher side. While the service itself was attentive and courteous, the additional cost did stand out, particularly in an otherwise thoughtfully priced experience. It did not ruin the afternoon, but it did prompt a raised eyebrow.

Still, as we sat there with clouds lingering overhead and the city humming faintly below, it was difficult not to feel satisfied. Evening had set in, and we were not quite sure how two hours had passed — spent chatting and enjoying the food.

For those willing to step outside familiar flavours, this rooftop offers something rare: sincerity. And on a cloudy afternoon, that can be as nourishing as the food itself.

Price: Tk395