A love letter to Lebanese food
Also, a recommendation to visit Mount Lebanon, if you live in Sheffield
Hi! When I started this blog in January, I told myself I was going to be consistent with it and post every 2 weeks. Evidently, that didn’t end up happening. This is still an attempt at remaining consistent, if less frequent. Self-discipline doesn’t come overnight, but I’m not sure it should take 8 months either. If you know me and see me around day-to-day, feel free to shout at me when you notice that I haven’t posted for a while. I might cry, but I’ll appreciate it in the long run. If you don’t know me, please refrain from shouting. Thanks! Without any further ado, I give you… A love letter to Lebanese food.
I used to be a child. When I was a child there was a Lebanese restaurant called Reem on the high street of the town I grew up in. There weren’t a lot of great food places to eat at that time, so we used to go to Reem fairly frequently. I remember the food we ate there clearly: soft bread, spicy hummus beiruty, crunchy, tangy pickles, crispy batata harra, creamy foul medames. We’d share each dish among the four of us, scooping them up with handfuls of bread. Every time I go home, I can’t help noticing the unit on the high street where Reem used to be: sometimes a noodle shop, sometimes a kebab shop. Now that it’s closed, my memories of the food at Reem have slipped into a shimmering nostalgia.
In June, me and my Dad took a day trip to Liverpool for his birthday. It was one of those very northern summer days where you oscillate between sheltering in cafés from the cold, wrapped around cups of coffee, then sitting out in the sun sipping a pint with sunglasses shading your eyes. I hadn’t had Lebanese food for a few years, so I’d almost forgotten how much I enjoy it. However, as the evening got warmer, we decided to grab a Lebanese takeaway and eat it out in the sun with a pint. Surrounded by boxes of hummus, baba ganouj and foul medames and a halloumi wrap in hand, I finally remembered how much I love, and missed, Lebanese food. Since then, I’ve not really stopped eating it.
Back in Sheffield, Mount Lebanon is a restaurant unassumingly tucked away on West Street above Domino’s. The interior of the restaurant can only be described as kitsch, but in the most endearing way possible. The noises of the street below are tempered by the soothing sounds of an artificial waterfall on the back wall, blending in with the artwork of scenes from the Mount Lebanon mountain range. Each time I’ve been there I’ve excitedly dictated to friends what we’ll be sharing from the mezze menu, then gone on to order so many dishes that the even the waiter looks confused.
“Why don’t you choose a couple of dishes too?” I’ll say after listing off seven dishes of my own. “We mustn’t forget to get pickles!”. In hindsight, I should probably stop trying to pretend that anyone else has a choice about what to order, as I clearly don’t have the self-discipline to do it any other way. In any case, this approach has never ended badly: I’ll always advocate for sharing multiple dishes with friends as the best way to eat. Not only do you get to enjoy way more food, you get the joy of sharing in the deliciousness.
So, if you do go and try the food at Mount Lebanon for yourself and you’re wondering what to order, just let me decide for you. You can always throw in a few dishes of your own. Here’s my choice of (vegetarian) dishes:
Dips: hummus beiruty (spicy hummus), baba ganouj (smoky aubergine dip)
Mezze dishes: foul medames (fava beans), warak inab bil zeit (stuffed vine leaves), batata harra (spicy, crispy potatoes)
Salads: tabbouleh or fattoush
Carbs: extra bread, moujaddarah (rice with fried onions)
Other: don’t forget to get pickles!
Just make sure you order with friends or family so you can share the food around, and enjoy together.