Cardiff . Cheap Eats . Cheap Eats . Restaurants in Wales . Uncategorized

Ayeeyo’s Kitchen, Corporation Road, Grangetown: review

On April 21, 2025 by The Plate Licked Clean

He hands me a paper cup of shaah cadays as I settle in.

I haven’t ordered it- he has brought it ‘just because’- but this Somali spiced tea, chai’s close cousin, sweet and perfumed with cardamom- is just the thing on a dark, mizzly Cardiff evening.

Perhaps I look like I need it: either way, these are the little moments which stay with you.

There is an amiable lack of formality here, the feel of a family business. It is there in the name, but don’t look for the eponymous ‘ayeeyo’ in the kitchen: it is Somali for ‘grandmother’.

There’s an artificial plant wall and a neon sign to my left. Relax: you are unlikely to see many Instagram peace signs thrown up by pearly-toothed twentysomethings against this particular backdrop, as we are back in Grangetown, and in Grangetown such things are mercifully rare.

Ayeeyo’s has been here in Grangetown since September 2024. The family was cooking for the community beforehand, progressing to the Star Hub in Tremorfa, where they trialled new recipes. And now, Corporation Road, just off the sprawling junction of Penarth and Clare.

I have my eye on lamb sambusas- Somali samosas- but at three for £4, which is practically giving them away, it’s hardly surprising they’ve already sold out for the day.

Hummus, pooled with pale olive oil and speckled with sumac, is light and loose and asking to be scooped up with folds of thin khobez-style bread.

Another chai arrives- it’s remarkable how quickly you can get accustomed to such kindness- before a cast iron skillet of suqaar arrives, seething quietly like a girlfriend whose birthday you’ve forgotten. An aromatic base- kamoon (cumin), garlic, green chillies- is the foundation for a hearty tumble of stir fried lamb and potatoes with peppers and onion. This is an ‘any time of day’ dish, I’m told, but often eaten for breakfast, and it’s easy to imagine this setting you up for a busy day. At £6.99, with more of that bread, it’s remarkable value.

Feeling righted- rebalanced, somehow- I go to pay.

How did you enjoy your experience with us today? he asks.

Two: It’s good food there, you know

The one I’m after- the ‘Signature’- isn’t quite ready when I return a few weeks later. They are still serving a late breakfast menu- spiced lamb liver with onions (kibdeh), fasoolia baked beans with ‘kimis’ chapatis, and shakshuka.

I’ll have a wander and pop back later, I say.

Leave us your number, and we’ll give you a ring when it’s ready and waiting for you, they suggest.

Go on, try to picture your favourite restaurant doing that.

I kill a couple of hours. Where better than The Grange, one of my favourite Cardiff pubs, which is heaving with Wales rugby fans steeling themselves for their latest humbling, one which never materialises. Not today, anyway.

Then, across Penarth Road to the always-lovely Blend, swapping ‘Where have you eaten lately?’ tips with owner Shiraz. You should meet Shiraz: he’s made for this hospitality thing, and someone nearby recently described him to me as ‘bringing joy to this corner of Grangetown.’ Which puts it better than I could. He introduces me to a customer whose grandfather settled in the area after years in the Merchant Navy. He tells me about the embedded legacy of Italian colonialism and its enduring influence on Somali food; the history of the Cardiff community; and, of course, his favourite places to eat in Cardiff.

In the process, he confirms a pet theory I’ve been mulling, but that’s for another time. He grins when I tell him I’m due back at Ayeeyo’s. ‘It’s good food there, you know’.

That’ll do me. It’s the ‘you know’ which seals it, somehow.

Today, the owners’ daughter is waiting tables, with a smile that could power the National Grid. She brings me a bowl of clear broth- maraq– tiny pearls of animal fat dotting the surface, pieces of lamb waiting to be sucked away from their bones, a warming and wholesome start.

It lays the ground for the ‘Signature’. Have it with kabsa, I’m told, a bed of rice seasoned with xawaash, the characteristic Somali cocktail of cumin, coriander, fenugreek, fennel, cinnamon, cloves and more.

That lamb, then. Sumptuously tender, with a beautifully caramelized glaze. A long marinade and a slow cook with turmeric and green chillies, coriander and yoghurt before it is served on the bone, marrow and all, with the sort of rough chilli paste you might recognise from your Yemeni mandi or haneeth.

Some people like to eat it with banana, my waitress suggests. I’m here to learn as much as eat, so yes please, and the soft sweetness plays well against the spicy pull of the flesh. It wouldn’t have occurred to me, of course, but it’s a revelation, and a dish to make you sit back contentedly with the knowledge you’ve been well fed. It’s £13.99. It makes me happy.

Three: And how did you find your experience with us today?

I want to tell him that Ayeeyo’s has given me the truest and purest form of hospitality. The kindness offered to a stranger on a cold, dark evening: hospitality without the word ‘industry’ tacked on behind.

I wanted to tell him that I still get excited at finding places like this, places which couldn’t belong in most places in Wales. Places which are, crucially, from, and for their communities.

I want to say that I’m glad this city’s history goes hand in hand with those diaspora communities making this city their home, and bringing their food with them. That they add warp and weft to food in Cardiff, that it makes eating here richer for anyone prepared to look for it.

That it is a pity that Ayeeyo’s- and so much of what happens in Grangetown- is about as far removed as possible from the typical food chatter in this city.

And not for the first time, I ask myself: why?

I remember- as I often do- what Tom Waters, whose Gorse I reviewed for Palate Magazine recently and which holds the city’s first Michelin star, told me for a National Geographic Traveller piece in early 2023: ‘Grangetown is my favourite area to eat. It’s all just pure flavour, fuss free, hashtag free.’

And perhaps, even more tellingly: ‘We live in a really culturally diverse city and I wish that Cardiff’s food media would convey this more in their coverage of the area.’

He was right then, and he’s right now.

And I wonder- not for the first time- why. Why there is so little talk about why you should eat in places like this.

Or, when it does happen, why it is so often ill-informed.

An example: Wales Online has recently raised hopes with a well-meaning ‘Where to break your Iftar’ piece. It mentions Ayeeyo’s ‘unique cuisine’ but somehow manages to fumble the ball with the line in sight, overlooking the fact there is another (and you’re probably way ahead of me here) Somali restaurant nearby.

Yes, on the same street.

Yes, all of fifty yards away.

It’s called Haraf. And yes, it has been there since 2002.

And I wonder, idly, if there is an irony in the way we pick our holiday destinations, with the food often the deciding factor? We head there with the aim of eating as locals do (no touristy spots for these tourists, no sirree!) but fail to fully explore the city we live in? Do we overlook food from groups who have called Cardiff home for well over a century- or closer to two, for the Yemenis who make up one of Britain’s oldest Muslim communities?

Despite all the evidence, I have this fond hope that the conversation about food in this city can become more inclusive, more aware. That the food we choose to talk about it in Cardiff can be so much more interesting and representative than ‘Date Night Inspo’ TikToks or a ‘First Look’ at another ‘small plates concept’ which dully recites whichever press release has just landed in the inbox. That there is more to exploring food in this city than the superfluous white noise ‘content’ generated by whoever is throwing free meals at the malleable and misleading this week.

I want to tell him I have felt looked after today. That when you eat here, you eat heartily, and you are fed by people who take satisfaction in looking after you.

But I don’t tell him any of this. I just smile, nod and say ‘It was really lovely, thanks’, tell him I’ll be back, and slope off into the Grangetown night.

Ayeeyo’s Kitchen, Corporation Rd, Cardiff CF11 7AN

Ayeeyo’s on Instagram

Monday 10 am–8 pm
Tuesday 10 am–8 pm
Wednesday Closed
Thursday 10 am–8 pm
Friday             10 am–8 pm
Saturday 10 am–8 pm
Sunday 10 am–8 pm