An order of Syrian manakeesh at Levantine's comes in two savory varieties: one turnover is filled with spinach and onions, and the other stuffed with a smoky red pepper and tomato paste. Credit: PHOTO BY JACOB WALSH

Back in the early 2000s, I regretfully passed up a chance to
go on a weekend tour of Damascus. My friend reported back to me that Syria’s
capital was a gorgeous place of thousand-year-old architecture standing
steadfast among newer edifices, partially inspired by the still-existing
predecessors. The streets were full of vibrant colors and art. The food was
fresh and delicious, and eating in Syria was a social event where everyone was
treated like an old friend returning from a long journey. I missed a
chance at what would have been an adventure.

Fortunately,
if I’d like to enjoy the fare and hospitality of The Levant, I just need to
head to the west side to taste the East. Since early August, 750 Elmgrove Road has been the home of Levantine’s Café,
Mohammad AlFayad’s restaurant that boasts a wide variety
of dishes from his home region.

On the mezze (small plate) menu is the Middle Eastern classic baba ganoush: roasted eggplant and yogurt blended into a creamy dip with olive oil. Credit: PHOTO BY JACOB WALSH

AlFayad got into cooking the way many of us do: by bugging
his mother incessantly. When he was a young boy back in Syria, he would follow her around the kitchen with his questions while she prepared meals for the
family. She would shoo him away, but he kept
returning, eager to learn. She eventually relented, and AlFayad’s
culinary skills blossomed. He came to the States in 2012 and
settled here in Rochester.

Many things
about Levantine’s invoke nostalgia for his birthplace. The name “Levantine’s”
itself is derived from a classic name for the region; “The Levant” refers to
the eastern Mediterranean coastal regions, including Syria, Lebanon, Palestine,
Israel, and Jordan, as well as the western regions of Iraq and Saudi Arabia. It’s a 15th century
term derived from the French word for “rising,” as the sun rose and shone on that
region before Europe. And it’s still used today by archaeologists and
anthropologists when they discuss the wealth of science and culture that comes
from the area.

Levantine’s
provides food that can’t claim origins in one specific country. All the dishes AlFayad makes have been around for centuries, perhaps with
a few small tweaks in the recipe or description from region to region.

Crispy fried and spiced chickpea patties, known as falafel. Credit: PHOTO BY JACOB WALSH

The walls of
Levantine’s are a bright, muted tan-green supporting a dark colored ceiling. It
reminds me of the bright sun-washed houses I saw in Cyprus and Kuwait. Wall-mounted
copper pots host spider plants. In many homes in Syria, a family would
establish their plots with a tree or a few small plants and then build their
house around it, essentially making a flourishing courtyard and garden at the
center of their home. Even the niches in Levantine’s walls host glossy ceramic
plates that reminded me of the elaborately designed tiling that I saw in a
palace once. It turns out AlFayad bought them from
Home Goods, but the influence on the artist is obvious.

The very
first thing that made me feel welcome in Levantine’s was the wood room divider
that separated the kitchen from the checkout and dining area. On each of the
four panels was the phrase “Welcome,” “To Your Health,” “Fresh,” and “Thank
you” in large English letters, in calligraphic Arabic, and spelled out phonetically.
True to the sentiment, Fraser, the person taking my order, was more than happy
to explain and describe everything on the menu I didn’t quite understand.

An order of Syrian manakeesh at Levantine’s comes in two savory varieties: one turnover is filled with spinach and onions, and the other stuffed with a smoky red pepper and tomato paste. Credit: PHOTO BY JACOB WALSH

I wound up
getting fulmudammas ($5),
a pot of fava beans stewed with tomatoes, parsley, and dry spices, followed by
an order of manakeesh ($8 for 2), which is kind of
like a savory turnover. One was stuffed with spinach and onions, and the other filling was
muhammara, a smoky red pepper and tomato paste. To cleanse my palate, I had
an ayran (pronounced EYE-ron)
($3), a thin yogurt drink that I was initially doubtful about, but turned
out to be very refreshing.

This menu
would be a vegetarian’s dream, by the way. Many times, people think of Middle
Eastern food as just lamb and beef kebabs, or shawarma
seasoned to various spice levels. Though there are plenty of chicken and beef
pitas and kebabs on Levantine’s menu, there are just as many fresh salad plates
and small vegetarian plates. No one will leave hungry.

House-made baklava: flaky phyllo dough packed with pistachios and honey. Credit: PHOTO BY JACOB WALSH

AlFayad says he is excited to expand his menu to offer
daily specials and a traditional Syrian brunch on Sundays, family-style: dining
groups sharing many small plate dishes for one price.

For now,
though, he’s focused on presenting a positive image of his home country. When
he first arrived in the States, not many folks he encountered had even heard of
Syria. But now when he says where he is form, the only things that come to
people’s minds are conflict and war. In fact, some of his employees are
refugees from the conflict, and he says he’s thankful that he could provide
them a safe place to work as they settle and support their families. But Syrian
and the greater Levantine culture are much more than conflict; the region has been
a source of art and knowledge for generations, for literal millennia. AlFayad says he hopes that he can provide the community
with a positive perspective of his home land.

The original fetteh bowl (a comfort food staple) includes chickpeas and yogurt sauce, and is garnished with toasted almonds and aromatic spices. Credit: PHOTO BY JACOB WALSH