Farrouj Syrian restaurant, City Road, Cardiff

It was always going to be all about the chicken. The farrouj. Of course it was.

There’s an unwritten rule of this restaurant reviewing nonsense- unwritten until now, or at least I’m laying claim to it- where you are obliged to order the thing the restaurant is named after.

So: you are obliged to order the momo at Momo Plus, the potted pig at The Potted Pig, the lahmacun flatbreads at Lahmacun, and the sense of disappointment at Maison de Boeuf.

Once upon a time this long room on City Road was Mezza Luna, where a chance conversation at an awards ceremony led to Zac trying out his idea for roast duck shawarma on me. Repeatedly. And yes, it’s a dirty job, but someone etc etc. I still think about that plate, the careful way the fat was handled until tiny slivers of crisp skin were ready to be mixed in with thick slices of breast meat, the tumble of pomegranate seeds, the handful of fresh herbs.

Don’t underestimate that: around that time I ordered the same cut at an untouchable Welsh institution, only to find the skin so rubbery it must have been a tribute to the French tyre makers who gave it a star.

It was the sort of basic error that would have you booted off MasterChef as week one cannon fodder, sending the host’s eyes spinning into boggly overdrive. Anyway. The final touch, the pomegranate seeds and molasses for a tangy, sticky treat.

Fahima, my server, brings me a little bowl of silky lentil soup with warming cumin. The menu is on the face of it very meaty- chicken and lamb loom large in various shawarma and grill combinations- with plenty of meat-free meze. Halloumi, falafel and fattoush, red pepper and walnut muhammara, roasted aubergine and tahini muttabal.

Hot weather will always draw me to City Road- is there anything more refreshing than those fresh mint and lemon juices (£4.50)? A godsend in this heatwave as my aroos (£7.50) arrives. Thin layers of bread are filled with unapologetically fatty lamb, tomato, onion and garlic- think of it as a cousin of Turkish pide or lahmacun- and tempered with a slick of sweet-tart pomegranate molasses.

On my second visit Fahima arranges fans around me. It’s the hottest day for years, and I have spent it in a kitchen inside the greenhouse-like Cardiff Market, so I probably look like something from the rotisserie: but it speaks to a spirit of welcome you’ll often find along this road, where Arab hospitality shines.

Shawarma arabi (£11), carved slivers of lamb wrapped in bread, are a consolation for missing out on the planned kuzi (a traditional feasting dish of slow cooked lamb and basmati rice).

But now, it’s all about that chicken. Next to the busy charcoal grill, long spits of the whole birds which give Farrouj its name do their slow dance.

Spatchcocked and spreadeagled, they perform their rhythmic pirouette as owner Hasan talks me through his process with obvious enthusiasm and more than a touch of pride. First, a citrus brine, then an overnight sumac spice rub. Then, on to the spit for that long slow roasting, basting them with a thick, aromatic paste of red pepper flakes in oil.

It’s time well spent, the fat rendered just so, the skin pulling away in crisp, spiced strips. It is, as you’d hope and expect, beautifully juicy and tender. This isn’t polite, prissy food, but this is food for people who love eating.

The familiar pickles, the fuschia-pink turnips, a few sauces ranging from tangy to hot to pungently garlicky; more of that unleavened bread; a generous tumble of rice flecked with fat little sultanas, thin layers of bread. It is £19, and it would easily feed two.

If you have ever taken Simon Hopkinson’s tip on roasting a chicken, throwing a handful of bacon lardons and button mushrooms into the roasting pan for the last 20 minutes or so- and then, on the spur of the moment abandoning all plating decorum, have stood side by side with someone you love enough to cook for, pulling apart the flesh until your fingers are slick and gently reeking with buttery, lemony thyme-perfumed juices, you’ll know how good the simple, hands-on can be.

Mint tea, scaldingly hot and sweet, doesn’t appear on my bill, but as I sip I sit back and think that two could eat very well here, with a starter (that aroos could happily do for two) and a drink, for under £18 a head, and leave very happy indeed. And that, I think, is worth you knowing about.

159 City Rd, Cardiff CF24 3BQ