“Let’s not split lemongrass stalks over it. What matters is this: Farang serves some of the most tastebud-smashing Thai food that north London has seen in years. Possibly ever.”

“I have found the perfect restaurant for me (not necessarily for you, but for me) and it is called Farang. You know what Farang means, right? Everyone knows what farang means. Because it’s the one word of Thai that your boring mates brought back from their gap year in southeast Asia (which was only three months because they came home early with amoebic dysentery). Because people said it to them all the time while they were paying ten times over the odds for drugs/food/beer/girls/boys and thinking they were getting the bargain of the century. It means “foreigner” with varying degrees of indulgence or hostility depending on who you are. Personally, I have only ever been called it by my fellow restaurant critic, Tom Parker Bowles,…”

“The best roti in town is the turmeric at Farang in Highbury, which I’d have walked barefoot from Wardour Street to buy at this point.”

“‘Decadent,’ says one chum about the notion of half a large spring chicken and minced tiger prawn red curry served together. Another recipient praises its evocation of a Malaysian rendang, the flavours lip-smacking and distinct. The surf ’n’ turf concept is also present in pork belly and lobster lon, an assembly complete with a flourish of dipping vegetables that is defiantly both emphatically sweet and salty.”

“Thanks for all the amazing food and getting into the spirit of the events – we were really happy with everything and both nights were a great success.”