Mezze are the hot and cold appetizers that are the heart of a Lebanese feast, and few will disappoint you here. The menu lists nearly three dozen of them, including tender lamb's tongue (lisanat) and terrific chicken livers (sawdat djaj) sautéed in pomegranate sauce. The chef's version of hummus rivals any around.
Kibbeh nayyeh, which is raw steak beaten to a smooth paste with onions and bulgur wheat, is perhaps more to the American taste if you add olive oil and some of the garlic paste that the waiters bring with the house pita bread.
Sfihas are little square pies with the edges pinched together over a ground lamb filling, leaving a little hole in the middle. These might have been delicious, but they tasted as if they'd been reheated in a microwave. But the lamb fries -- the sheep version of Rocky Mountain oysters -- were great in their lemony sauce redolent of garlic and parsley.
The best salad is tabbouleh, here with the proper proportion of ingredients: chopped parsley, then fresh mint, tomatoes and onions, with a little cracked bulgur wheat, lemon juice and olive oil. When one of my guests attempted to season it with black pepper, our waiter cautioned him, "In my country, we never do that."
Among the absurdly substantial main dishes, one of the most delicious is samakeh harra: broiled filet of red snapper topped with a pale pink sauce of tahineh, ground walnuts, garlic, cilantro and a tiny bit of red pepper.
The kebabs are just fine as well, though not much different from those you can get up and down the Boulevard. "Deboned chicken" is a nicely marinated Cornish game hen, the shish kebab and lula kebab are fresh and tender, and the lamb chops (kastaleta) have a nice gamey flavor.
By the way, with a kebab consider having some labneh bi-toum: a delicious thick yogurt cream flavored with mint and garlic.
If you aren't completely satiated, you should be, but leaving room for dessert is a clever idea. Ashta bi'asal is a thick clotted cream topped with honey, crushed pistachioes and slivered almonds. The rice pudding called moghli is nearly perfect if you don't mind the taste of rose water. The baklava is small pieces with a minimum of syrup, the way they like it in Lebanon. It's manna from heaven with a cup of Turkish coffee.
-- Max Jacobson, Special to The Times