What distinguishes Lebanese cuisine from that of its Middle Eastern neighbors is that it sits upon a green coastal plain rather than in the desert, according to Lebanese Cuisine by Anissa Helou (St. Martin's Press). For millennia, the rich, fertile countryside has produced ample fresh fruits and a wealth of vegetables, grains, dates, mint, nuts and spices, all endowing Lebanese food with their subtle textures and truly exotic flavors.
You can sample Lebanese fare locally at a South Tampa restaurant and take-out market called Byblos. It is the namesake of an ancient city on the Mediterranean Sea, now called Jubayl, in what once was Phoenicia, dating back to at least 3,000 B.C.E., making it one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world.
It is also the homeland of restaurant owners Ziad and Roger Estephan, and their mother, Schafica Jhosn, who is the restaurant's chef, all immigrants during the last decade who brought with them a unique culinary tradition.
At lunch, the place is jammed with business people, socialites and seniors. At dinner, it draws crowds for its weekend belly-dancing shows. The restaurant has been open just two years, but it enjoys quite a local following; the brothers are already planning an expansion next door, according to manager Naima Marhi.
Inside, it is decorated in gold and burgundy, simply, with traditional music in the background and native items hanging on the walls. We were surprised to find a 33-item wine list, assuming the restaurant would enforce a Muslim religious prohibition of alcohol; but Marhi explained that Lebanese are both Muslim and Christian, and since the Estephens embrace the latter faith, they are happy to serve wine and beer.
The idea of wine from Lebanon is startling, as it is almost always pictured in the news as a war-weary, desolate hole lacking anything so civilized as grape arbors. However, the white Lebanese wine called Chateau Ksara Blanc de Blanc ($6.50/glass, $30/bottle) certainly came through with flair — it was as deliciously dry and crisp as the mountain air.
In order to sample as much food as we could, we ordered an appetizer called A Taste of Lebanon, which offered a selection of typical dishes served with pita for dipping. Hummus (chickpea purée); baba ganuj (eggplant purée); labneh (thickened yogurt dip), kebbeh (fried meat with cracked wheat), falafel (fried vegetarian patties made from chickpeas), stuffed grape leaves, tabbouleh (parsley salad), plus a combination of shish kabob, chicken kabob and kafta (minced meat with seasonings) were all included.
It was pricey at $25 per person, but we split it, and when it came, the portions were generous, and plates and bowls covered the table. To dine for less, or should you be a light eater, you could also choose another appetizer called Byblos Mezah, a smaller collection priced at $16 for two and $7 for each additional diner. Either would comprise a perfectly satisfactory meal or snack.
The dips were wonderfully fresh and tasty, as was the delightful tabbouleh, my favorite dish, which gave off a cheery Christmas-y aura, with its deep green parsley and bright bits of tomato. I also enjoyed the restaurant's hummus and eggplant dip — smooth and cold and spare, light and refreshing on a hot, humid summer night.
When matched with such elegant toppings, the pita seemed markedly pedestrian. But the restaurant plans to upgrade from commercially supplied pita to homemade, which would be a great improvement.
Shish kabob (also available as an entrée, $17, which comes with pita, hummus and tossed salad) entailed squares of filet mignon (you can also get chicken or shrimp) marinated in olive oil, herbs and spices, skewered and charbroiled. The meat boasted real flavor and the charbroiling gave it a contrastingly crunchy outside coat that left me smacking.
My dining companion and I both liked the kebbeh (also available as an entrée, $12) as well. Shaped like a mini-football and about the same color, it is made from ground beef, cracked wheat, pine nuts, onion, and herbs and spices, crisp-fried in vegetable oil. It is a dish similar to hotdogs: Terrific when it's done well, and truly terrible when it's done badly. Byblos' was one of the better versions I've tasted.
Though the appetizers were delish and huge, we also sampled the gyro dinner entrée ($10), thinly-sliced beef and lamb served with tahina sauce, a buttery colored pool of hummus and a fresh, simple tossed salad, decorated with fragrant sliced lemon and whole olives. The meat was good, its surface touched by the smoky grill. In combination with the hummus and the salad, it certainly is enough to satisfy a big eater.
My dining companion tried what Marhi said is the restaurant's most popular entrée, marinated and charbroiled lamb chops ($17), three hearty specimens with a pronounced zippy marinade flavor, cooked exactly to medium rare, crusty, blackened exterior sending a column of delectable steam wafting over the table.
Many of the heavy, big plates sported a lovely sprinkle of sumac, the deep red color and texture of paprika but with an entirely different flavor, ground from berries to a coarse powder and used in flavoring eggs, stuffings, fish, meat and salad.
For dessert, the café offers two flavors of the traditional pastry called baklava — walnut or pistachio — which arrived with a ladies' finger pastry ($2). They were just so-so, as they had succumbed to the humidity, the phyllo dough wrappings moaned rather t
han crackled when I bit into them. Marhi said the restaurant currently buys pastries elsewhere but plans to begin making them in-house in the near future. It would be another welcome upgrade to the quality of the fare.
The restaurant had a few faults, but all in all, it provided a satisfying trip through an ancient cuisine.
Food Editor Sara Kennedy dines anonymously, and Weekly Planet pays for her meals. She can be reached at sara.kennedy@weeklyplanet.com or 813-248-8888 ext. 116.
This article appears in Aug 28 – Sep 4, 2003.