The dining room at this year-and-a-half-old Pakistani restaurant is already starting to show its age. The clunky, spindly folk-art chairs have gotten nicked in places, and their bright, Parcheesi-like wooden parts bear the smudges of buttery fingers. But the restaurant's homey, Lahori-style cooking hasn't lost a bit of luster. A recent serving of achaar murgh, chicken braised in yogurt, lemon, and mango pickles, was breathtaking sour and salty in a way that blasted our senses like a dive into the Pacific. Goat karahi may be the richest-tasting stew we've ever tasted. The meat had a gelatinous succulence, and its fibers were still pink evidence they'd endured a long, slow braise in their spicy, tomato-moistened sauce. Its clean-barnyard fragrance made us think of lamb, but the intensity was all goat. Go ahead: Mumble a prayer of thanks to the delicate-looking critters in the restaurant's murals of Pakistani village life. They've never tasted better.