By FAYERUZ REGAN

Staff Writer,

Studio City, CA

From the 60’s to the 80’s, the Sunset Strip was famous for pioneering the rock and roll scene. These days it’s a playground for publicity-starved starlets who get into trouble to get splashed across tabloid covers. One doesn’t think of “The Strip” as a place to score a great Middle Eastern meal. That may change. Recently, an amiable gentleman by the name of Khalid opened Pi, a Lebanese-Italian fusion restaurant.

It’s mysterious, catacomb-like interior is open to the street, luring in patrons with the soft orange glow of candlelight. Plush red benches are covered with gold throw pillows and music from the orient pipes onto the sidewalk.

Many fusion cuisines work. Jalapenos are great on sushi and Korean BBQ tacos are de rigueur in the Los Angeles lunch truck scene. I was excited to try Pi’s fusion dishes, which promised to combine a myriad of Mediterranean flavors. The strength in Pi’s menu lies in its well-made Middle Eastern dishes, which don’t seem to have any Italian influence. However, the Italian dishes were infused with Middle-Eastern flavors and the result was, in a word, confusing. Instead of taking the best of what both countries had to offer, it seems the chefs threw every spice in the pot. The chicken parmesan featured Italy’s oregano and garlic, but mixed it with cloves and allspice; traditional Arab seasonings. This wayward red sauce was also used for the calamari, which I cannot recommend. The onion ring-shaped appetizers were mostly breading, were overcooked and as hard as rocks.

The Middle-Eastern dishes however, were superb. The cheese pie was garlicky and salty, with a chewy, homemade dough fresh from the oven. The beef shawerma was zesty, coated in spices and fried until almost black. I am certain that they did this on purpose; it’s slightly crunchy texture made the dish interesting. The shawerma sat on a bed of buttery rice cooked in chicken stock and was drizzled in tahina. The hummus on the plate was also tasty, but the salad left us wanting. It felt as if the salad were there by rote to add color to the plate. No one wants to eat plain lettuce and the oil and lemon squeezed atop the salad teased us. Even salt and pepper would have kicked it up a notch.

The knafeh was another example of their mastery of Arabic cuisine. Unlike the Palestinian variety, the Lebanese version of this dessert opts for breadcrumbs over shredded filo, and they eschew orange dye altogether. The result was a natural-hued and custard-like slice of heaven. With a golden crust atop the dessert and sitting in a pool of delicate rosewater, the knafeh was a sweet, happy ending to our meal.

While it’s true that Pi’s Italian dishes were more curious than delicious, the Middle-Eastern specials more than make up for it. What’s more is that the alluring storefront is open until 2 AM, drawing in everyone from bleary-eyed club-hoppers to hopeful couples on a first date. Pi also has a party room for events, karaoke night, comedy night, roundtable music writing groups that meet once a week and a growing clientele of hookah enthusiasts who lounge on their patio for hours. With social offerings as diverse as their menu, Pi may become as familiar as the other eateries on the strip, such as Carney’s or The Rainbow Room.

www.pionsunset.com

310.657.1774

8828 Sunset Blvd.

West Hollywood, CA 90069

By: Fayeruz Regan

I found Spitz by accident while strolling the revamped and super chic streets of Little Tokyo in downtown Los Angeles. While the rest of the businesses had ultra modern and glowing white façades, Spitz oozed a golden glow from its interiors. It stuck out like a sore thumb, and we couldn’t help but peer in. Warmly lit wit Moroccan lamps, art sculptures clinging to the walls, hip clientele and a DJ (!) spinning tunes for diners, it seemed a den of comfort compared to the fluorescent-lit and sparse restaurants that flanked it. And oh, that smell. It is what lured me back for a return visit. It was the aroma of sizzling lamb, primal and earthy.
Spitz calls itself as “Home of the Doner Kebob,” which, according to the menu, seemed like a gyro. I love a good gyro, but would rather they simply call it that. I didn’t know if I was stumbling into an Emperor’s New Clothes situation, where everyone insisted on calling it a Doner Kabob though they knew they were eating a gyro. But the place smelled like heaven, and Los Angeles Magazine hailed it “The Best Sandwich in LA” in June of 2010. Doner Kebab or gyro, I knew it would taste great.
There was only one off-putting element to the otherwise great atmosphere, and that was the service. The hipster working the front, while a beautiful girl, was all too aware of it and thought it could compensate for a disappointing attitude. Young male patrons would wave goodbye to her excitedly as she stared into space past them. She was aloof to the point of us not being sure she could hear us when addressing her. When we placed our orders, she stared at us vacantly. When we asked if she could hear us over the loud music, we believe she gave a nod but weren’t sure her head moved. She was almost too hipster to function, and obviously wished she were moping around American Apparel. This may work with young men vying for her attention, but has no place when serving seasoned clientele.
The food was delicious. Let me address the pink elephant in the room. Yes it was a gyro. But it was tastier and healthier than other meats that spin on a spit. It was juicy, salty and the perfect mix of beef, lamb and mystery spices. Not only was the meat piled on the sandwich, but it was loaded down with toppings that go beyond the basic gyro. There was Tzatziki, tomatoes, lettuce and onions of course, but also chili sauce, pepperocinis, Kalamita olives and feta. The Doner salad featured the same toppings in a heaping pile, but also included sliced cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, fried lavash pita strips and homemade balsamic vinaigrette on the side. It felt so healthy, the cornucopia of fresh vegetables stuffed into our meal. It almost seemed to cancel out the bread and meat.
To add to the dining experience was a choice of craft beers and homemade sangria. I opted for the exotic basil and peach white wine sangria, and it did not disappoint. Refreshing and herbal, its sweetness complimented the salty Mediterranean meal. It’s life-affirming to see a Middle-Eastern restaurant reinvent itself as a chic hotspot, and not one only patronized by hookah-sucking natives. The clientele was nearly all Japanese, not only showing how far we’ve come, but demonstrating the bravado and confidence of this restaurateur, who was sure they could open a successful Middle-Eastern restaurant in the heart of Little Tokyo.

Spitz: Home of the Doner Kebab – www.eatspitz.com – 371 E 2nd Street – Los Angeles, CA 90012 – 213. 613.0101

By FAYERUZ REGAN
Staff Writer,
Studio City, CA

Momed is short for Modern Mediterranean, and this chic upstart sits in the heart of Beverly Hills. The inside was sleek and modernist. Making the most of a low ceiling lined with rows of rounded air vents, they were painted white and unevenly sprinkled with modern light fixtures, round like halos. The glass deli display made it a perfect market for those who wished to pick up fresh hummus or tabbouleh on their way home. Jars of fresh herbs lined the counter, reminding customers of how much care was put into their meals. Everything was white, with accents of blonde wood and stainless steel.
We ordered the sampler appetizer, with hummus, avocado hummus, muhamarra and stuffed grape leaves. It’s almost impossible to describe the hummus, except that it tasted pure. It wasn’t overpowered by lemon or garlic, but was stiff with chick peas and delicious in a simple way. The avocado hummus was an eye-popping chartreuse, but the color was the only thing that really popped. It seemed to be half avocado and half tahina, with nothing heightening the mix except for a bit of lemon. Perhaps Arabs were not destined to conquer the avocado in the same zesty manner as the Mexicans. While I can appreciate that the stuffed grape leaves were homemade, there was a bit too much going on. The filling was oddly sweet, yet minty, yet dusted with cinnamon. What truly stole the show was the muhamarra; a dip made with walnuts, pomegranate seeds and roasted red peppers. It was spicy yet sweet, crunchy and smooth, hearty yet refreshing. It was so enjoyable, I was retroactively angry at my mother for never making this when I was a child.
We ordered the duck shawerma and pide, a traditional Turkish flatbread with toppings. The main courses truly showcased the modern spin on traditional Middle Eastern favorites. The duck shawerma was rolled into a soft pita with oven-dried tomatoes, fig confit and garlic spread. The sandwich was moist and delicious, albeit a little sweet. I was hoping for a more savory dish that focused on the umami, meaty flavor, but every bite was sugary. Then came the pide, featuring Ohanyan spicy soujuk sausage, red onions, piquillo peppers and halloumi cheese. It was pure heaven. The dough was chewy and fresh and the cheese salty and mild. We selfishly grabbed at pieces of the pide with the most sausage. Unlike yawn-worthy pepperoni, the slices of soujuk were thick, blood red and bursting with unknown spices that made it so addictive, one might be suspicious of MSG. But Momed would never stoop to such measures. They ensure organic freshness and buy produce and meat from local farms, such as Coleman Family Farms. Based in Carpinteria, they are a staple in the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market, and were showcased on KCRW’s Good Food, LA Weekly and The Los Angeles Times.
I can’t wait to return to indulge in their ice cream sampler, with flavors like rosewater, Mediterranean coffee, pistachio and pomegranate. The biggest challenge will be making room for it. Despite the steely modern décor, Momed is a place of warmth. Not in the stark furnishings of glass and metal, but in the homemade care placed into every dish. They were reverential in their respect for Middle-Eastern food, and playful with their modern spins on it.

By: Fayeruz Regan

Staff Writer

It takes a special kind of restaurant to serve kibbeh nayeh; raw beef. Not rare beef, but completely raw, top-grade beef. People wouldn’t feel safe ordering such a dish in a kebab shack with blaring televisions. Cedar House is just the type of establishment to serve such a carefully prepared delicacy. It was by far the most elegant and unpretentious Middle Eastern restaurant I’ve had the privilege to review. Read the full story

By: Fayeruz Regan

 Gaby’s sits on Washington Boulevard in the heart of Venice Beach. Passersby are carrying surfboards, and their tousled hair is dusted with sand and salt-air. Blending into its surroundings, Gaby’s caters to their earthy beach clientele, showcasing a sign out front reading, “Vegan.” I know that Middle-Eastern food is healthy in general, but it wasn’t until I took a look at Gaby’s menu that I realized how vegan-friendly our diet is. Read the full story

By Fayeruz Regan

Staff Writer

 It’s always great to see an Arab-owned restaurant flourishing. It’s even better to see Arabs expanding out of the Middle-Eastern food genre and taking on different, upscale cuisines. It veers from the first-generation practice of serving food from one’s home country, and mirrors an entrepreneurial spirit that shows what a long way us Arabs have come. Khoury’s is nestled on the waterfront in Long Beach, and the sign atop the imposing, sea-themed structure (that can hold hundreds of people) is the boldly illuminated family name. Read the full story

Artificial sweeteners: friend or foe?

By Sarah Alaoui
Staff Writer

I was born with my mother’s eyes and my father’s mouth, my mother’s sensitivity and my father’s stubborn nature. I was also blessed with my father’s sweet tooth, a genetic history of diabetes that has plagued many members of my family (including my grandfather whose prosthetic leg is the result of his lifelong battle with an unrelenting affinity towards sweets) and an Arab family who loves to cook and feed me (koul, koul!).

When I stay in my grandparents’ house in Morocco, I am spoiled with kisses from more aunts and great-aunts than I can count on both hands and a daily abundance of…sugar. Breakfast includes Moroccan pancakes soaked-er, drizzled-in honey, a plethora of cookies with almonds and jam prepared in every way possible and of course, Moroccan mint tea. The tea, which is served after almost every meal is the biggest perpetrator because it is served with generous amounts of sugar cubes- “Let her drink it, she doesn’t need to be worrying about sugar at this age!” I don’t refuse the aforementioned food-how could I, that would just be rude. Let’s be honest, though, I don’t fare any better in the United States. Brownies and cookies are my downfall, not to mention my newfound comfort food discovered during finals week in college- self-serve frozen yogurt with any and every topping imaginable (cheesecake bites, anyone?).

With my family’s medical history and a long list of future goals, including the chance to Read the full story

The way Lebanese cuisine should be.

By Fayeruz Regan
Staff Writer

Recently I met a man who, after finding out I was Middle-Eastern, pressed his palms together as if in prayer. “You must try Carnival,” he decreed, waving his hands before me. For over 25 years, this family-owned Lebanese restaurant has been giving Los Angeles an exotic dose of the Orient. Unlike glorified kabob joints, the chefs painstakingly take the time to create labor-heavy dishes. Whether brewing their own rose water for desserts or folding the dough for their spinach pies, they ensure that their menu offers real variety. Twenty-five years is plenty of time to build a reputation, and Carnival was packed with so many jovial families and twenty-somethings on dates, it made me think, “What recession?”

Carnival displays a rainbow of fresh garnishes that infuse life into every plate. Their produce comes straight from their local farmer’s market, and dishes are lovingly adorned with thin slivers of raw onion dusted with sumac. There were hot pink pickled radishes, parsley sprigs, lemon wedges, tomato slices chartreuse peppers and a variety of olives.

The generous pile of warm pita bread allowed us to tuck into the smoky grilled baba ganoush. The tabbouleh was fresh and crisp, as were the stuffed grape leaves. Both featured that tangy citrus-herb freshness, with just the right amount of lemon and olive oil. The hummus didn’t have the lemon-garlic Read the full story

Bon Dates (photo courtesy of www.sweetpillar.com)

Dates are all-natural dried fruits commonly known as “Nature’s Candy.” Although sweet, Medjool dates are very nutritional, topping the list for their antioxidant capacity by weight in comparison of other fruits and vegetables. In the midst of the cultural shift towards a healthier diet, dates have become increasingly popular in the mainstream public, but in the Middle East, where dates have been around for centuries, they have always been a staple of a Middle Eastern diet.

The Medjool date is the oldest known cultivated tree crop dating back more than 5,000 years. They have sustained the nomadic peoples of the Middle Eastern and North African desert. Ancient writings depict date palms growing in Egypt in the fifth century B.C. and have been found in clay jars in the tombs of Pharaohs, placed to give them sustenance in their trip to the afterworld.

An essential part of the holy month of Ramadan, a traditional Ramadan iftar table is not complete without a date and glass of water to start the breaking of fast.

Bon Dates (photo courtesy of www.sweetpillar.com)

With such a historical and religious significance coupled with its natural sweetness Read the full story

By Saad Fayed

About.com

Arak is a distilled alcoholic drink favored in the Middle East. Commonly used in social settings, the drink is famous for its potency, and the milky-white color it turns when water is added to it. Arak has a high alcohol content, so water and ice is almost always added, producing the drink nick-named, “the milk of lions,” in the Middle East.

What Does Arak Taste Like?

Arak is typically made from grapes, though dates, sugar, plums, figs, and molasses can be used depending on the region where it is made. Though Arak in its pure form is colorless, the clear liquid is aniseed-flavored. Aniseed is added to the distilled alcohol during the second of three distillation processes. The ratio of aniseed to alcohol can vary which results in different qualities of arak, but the strength of the drink usually falls Read the full story