Naan Barbari: The Naan That Changed Everything

I’ve walked past Naan Barbari more times than I can count—on my way to the metro, to meet friends, to run errands—and every single time, I breathed in the most delicious smell. I can never believe such magic came from this tiny shop.

A few weeks ago, I finally gave in. I stepped inside, ready to let the smell become a taste. The aroma hit even stronger indoors, and the cheerful decor, paired with shelves full of pastries and cookies, instantly confirmed two things: first, I had made the right choice, and second, I’d been incredibly foolish not to stop here sooner.

I stood marveling at the selection before deciding to start simple: classic naan. Behind the counter, the man was working the oven and expertly shaping the dough by hand, a motion so fluid you could tell he’d done it thousands of times, all the while speaking non stop to his friend, present behind the counter.

I asked for half a naan, thinking a whole one might be too much. He told me that wasn’t possible. Twist my arm—I got the full thing. When he asked for 50 kroner, I nodded. It felt fair for something freshly handmade, hot out of the oven. But then I realized I’d misheard him—he had said 15. Fifteen kroner! Basically supermarket prices for actual warm, just-baked naan.

The smile on my face when I stepped outside and took that first bite—unreal. Pure joy. An audible foodgasm. I rushed home and split it with my husband so he could share in the experience.

I swear: if this place is open, I’m never buying naan from a supermarket again. I highly recommend their bread—and probably anything else they serve—because trust me, the smell? That’s just the beginning.

Useful Links:

• Find them on google maps

• Wolt