Çka Ka Qëllue
Mediterranean restaurant · Midtown East ·
Rustic spot serving modern Albanian & Kosovan dishes
Rustic spot serving modern Albanian & Kosovan dishes
"With its Medieval-esque stone walls, flickering candelabras dangling from double-height ceilings, accordion soundtrack, and display case of antique Balkan weapons, Çka ka Qëllu in Stamford has the unique vibe of “last good supper before going off to war.” Fortunately, it’s only good times ahead when dining here, particularly if you go with a big group. No table at this Albanian restaurant is complete without the creamy sausage dip, fasul (a savory white bean and sausage stew), mantia (browned, pillowy veal dumplings in yogurt sauce), and the mixed grill, which includes variously shaped ground meats that push the boundaries of acceptable levels of salt, in a good way. Stave off the end-of-meal meat sweats by ordering the creamy trilece cake and pair it with a delicious cereal milk cocktail, which tastes exactly how it sounds." - chloe zale, ciera velarde
"Critically praised Çka Ka Qëllu is an impressive display of Albanian food and culture that keeps expanding at a steady clip. The menu at the rustic, relatively new Murray Hill outpost, like its siblings in the Bronx and Connecticut, features platters of smoky grilled sausages, ground veal-stuffed dumplings, and slices of dense, crepe-like fli paired with a block of tangy feta." - Eater Staff
"A more ambitious dining establishment that opened three years ago, this family- and celebration-friendly restaurant is run by Ramiz Kukaj (who emigrated from Kosovo in the mid-’90s) with chef Afrim Kalgini in the kitchen; Grammy winner Dua Lipa has even dined there. The new Manhattan branch sits on the eastern slope of Murray Hill in the ground floor of a stately townhouse with three end-to-end dining rooms, an L-shaped flagstone terrace out back and a winter dining chalet in front, and the interior is furnished with 18th- and 19th-century knickknacks—horse collars, hoes, antique kitchen utensils, stringed instruments, peasant costumes and grainy black-and-white photos—so the walls are a delight for those who relish historical material. The menu is similarly evocative: the Skenderbeg steak ($25) is a tender smoked steak sliced thin, rolled around a core of white cheese, breaded and fried like a very long cigar with a cream sauce piped along it and marinated pepper strips laid across; cutting into it releases oozing white cheese. There are no bureks on the menu, but there are many pastries, including mantia (a small bready turnover filled with ground veal served with distinguished artisanal yogurt), and somun, a puffy housemade pita served steaming with dips such as ajvar and garlicky tarator. Qebapa ($15) are grilled skinless veal sausages—made without pork reflecting the Muslim heritage of many Kosovo Albanians—laced with onions, garlic and salt and meant to be eaten with warm bread. Much of the menu centers on grilled items and tava stews: a paprika-laced veal goulash ($16) that is almost more soup than stew, and fasul, white navy beans cooked down with smoked meat or sausage. Wines (mainly Italian and Californian) and beers are offered, though there were no mixed drinks at the time of the visit. For dessert I found baklava and trilece—the latter a milk-soaked cake with caramel topping whose appearance on the Albanian menu was explained, playfully, by a server as learned from Brazilian soap operas in the ’90s." - Robert Sietsema
