Shashlik Uz N1 Is a South Brooklyn Shrine to Central Asian Meat

By Minh Tran

At Shashlik Uz N1, hunks of meat reign supreme. You can find them raw and encased in a deli display on your way to the back dining room, sizzling in heaps stacked on metal skewers over coals on the restaurant’s Instagram page, tender and juicy when you’re dogging them on a rainy Sunday afternoon. I worried that I had flopped with my order, only having gotten two skewers between the homie Mano and myself, while, at a neighboring table, a group of men feasted on several plovs piled high with various meats. While we opted for variety on the menu, with Shashlik, the Uzbek term for skewers, as the restaurant’s namesake, I couldn’t help but feel I was leaving meat on the table.

Photo by Minh Tran

I visited Shashlik’s Kensington location, on Ditmas Avenue, with my food-curious associate on a rainy Sunday afternoon in April. As I entered, a brusque middle-aged man gave me a look that read more “What do you want?” than “How can I help you?” and ushered me through the gray and sterile front-of-house and into a mezzanine with an array of glass doors that led to private rooms shrouded in curtains. On the other end, between me and the kitchen, was a deli counter display of raw meats on skewers. Despite the permanent DJ booth and disco ball, the main dining room had a discordant feel, these party elements coexisting with the harsh overhead lighting, exposed brick, and rustic wooden beams. Groups of men dined around large tables. Young servers dried silverware while snacking on fries. The casual atmosphere came from everyone’s acceptance of a scene one might find disorienting in its lack of ceremony. Our server didn’t feel the need to apologize or call any attention to seating us next to this table laden with stacks of dinnerware, so it was clearly no big deal.

After spending decades working in kitchens in Samarkand, Uzbekistan, Murod Narzikulov came to New York in 2015 in search of opportunity. He took odd jobs before opening the first Shashlik Uz N1 location in 2023, on the border of Gravesend and Bensonhurst, with his business partner, Sanat Borozov, whom he knew from home. While Narzikulov is the culinary mind behind the restaurant, Sanat handles the operations of the business, doubling as one of the stars of their Instagram page, which features skits in Uzbek with inspired transitions and Narzikulov ushering out heaps of sizzling meat for famous patrons.

Photo by Minh Tran

Narzikulov and Borozov are part of the newer wave of Uzbek immigrants who have settled in South Brooklyn, commingling with the existing Russian population in neighborhoods like Bensonhurst, Sheepshead Bay, and Brighton Beach. For many Uzbekis looking for work, the two most popular options are migrating to Russia or America. When I spoke with David, the general manager of Shashlik Uz N1, he alluded to how major success meant having a spot, in addition to the Kensington and Gravesend locations, down on Emmons Avenue, and hinted at future plans for the restaurant without giving too much away. 

David said that one of the hardest parts of replicating the formula elsewhere is finding the team to pull it off—a common issue for any Brooklyn restaurant—because not everyone can man the coals the way Narzikulov does. Most Uzbek shashlik is marinated in a blend of black pepper, cumin, and coriander, then cooked in large chunks and cubes over charcoal, held together by a sturdy metal skewer resembling a sword. Many Uzbek restaurants in South Brooklyn will showcase their selection of skewers with a deli-counter-style display in view of patrons. Shashlik Uz N1’s menu shares similarities with those of other Central Asian spots, like Shashlik House, Kashkar Cafe, and Urgut Osh Markazi, with standard fare like samsa, mantis, assorted pickled offerings, and plovs to share (though the table next to us seemed to have ordered a lamb plov for each diner). My friend and I kept things above board with a beef and a lamb skewer, but the chicken wing, veal liver, cheeseburger, and bone marrow options, signs of Murod’s back-of-house experimentation, were calling my name.

Photo by Minh Tran

The pickled vegetables and mushrooms were bright, and the cabbage resembled kimchi that hadn’t gone through the rounds of fermentation. The loaf of Uzbek bread we used to sop up the soup, juices, and sauces was serviceable, a little cold and lacking the kind of ornate scoring and dark crust one typically finds in obi non. The samsa, despite coming from the same tandoori oven, was layered, buttery, full of lamb and onion, dark, and flaky—like a Mei Lei Wah bun filled with minced meat and built like a croissant. For dessert, we ordered a round of manti filled with lamb and onions with a heaping dollop of yogurt. Something I’ve noticed about manti compared to other dumplings is how airy they typically are on the inside. In some East Asian cuisines, the success of a dumpling is predicated upon how much filling you can stuff into the thinnest wrapper. In the case of the manti and samsa, things appear to be skin-forward.

While casually and gracefully pouring chocolate sauce over their off-menu dessert, a slice of basque cheesecake, David told me that the Uzbek clientele doesn’t care about ratings the way non-Uzbeks do, but to be successful, you have to cater to both. He asked me to leave the restaurant a good review, but also assured me that business is booming, in spite of the sparsely crowded dining room during this Sunday lunch at one of South Brooklyn’s great temples of meat. 

I left thinking Shashlik was the perfect outer-borough dining experience: decadent yet unfussy, the kind of place that’s always open, never crowded, and always delicious; one that doesn’t care whether you’re there for 30 minutes or three hours, and where the marker of good hospitality is not a server hovering over you to make sure you have what you need so they can clear you in hopes of fitting a walk-in for 90 minutes before an 8 p.m. reservation. If you’re willing to put down pounds of meat in a room that looks ready to host a graduation party in a few hours, then this perfect experience can be yours. 

Shashlik Uz N1 is located at 115 Ditmas Ave. (open Friday through Wednesday from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m.) and 238 Kings Highway (open Thursday through Tuesday from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m.)