Middle Eastern in Orlando

Here's the thing: I don't know much about Turkish cuisine. But here's the other thing: You don't have to know much to know that Bosphorous, a new Turkish restaurant gracing Park Avenue, has exceptional food. After being initiated into the world of Turkish food by Bosphorous, I daydream about a culinary journey to Turkey. Aren't daydreams what good ethnic cuisine should inspire? Shouldn't foreign foods hold adventure with a healthy dose of curiosity to wash it down?

When thinking about Turkish food, think ancient fusion. The crescent-shaped region lies on a swath of land that juts out between the Black and the Mediterranean seas, dividing Europe from the Middle East. Turkey was touched by all the major spice routes in the 15th century and was a major hub of other trade during its heyday under Ottoman rule, which lasted 600 years. Not surprisingly, Turkish food is an amalgamation of the many people who have passed through. I noticed hints of Italian, Lebanese and Greek, yet this food has a style all its own. It's rich in eggplant and lamb and spices of all sorts; citrusy red sumac is served alongside verdant dill, while zesty coriander, cumin and cayenne are also likely to make appearances.

We started with lavas ($4.99), an unleavened, griddle-baked bread. This oversized, hollow pocket puffed up into a feathery pillow and was served with a light smattering of butter and sesame seeds. The flavor was superbly sweet with a pleasing sour tang. I loved tearing off small pieces and dipping it into one of the many cold appetizers scattered across our table. We tried three different eggplant appetizers: One grilled, with a heavy dose of dill, called patlican salatasi; another, soslu patlican, was made with fried eggplant in a tomato sauce; and a third was smoky and garlicky and familiar – baba ghanoush ($7.50 each). In addition, we got tarama ($7.50), an emulsion of olive oil and lemon juice whipped with orange caviar, and haydari ($6.95), a creamy yogurt dip made with lemon, walnuts and fresh dill. Oh, and some of the best hummus ($6.95) I've ever tasted.

Among my favorite entrees, there were many made with dšner kebab, a spiced mixture of ground lamb that originated in Anatolia and was the predecessor of Greek gyro and Arabic shawarma. I especially liked the iskender kebap ($18.95), which featured this spiced lamb meat served with a delicate tomato sauce and a heap of yogurt. The beautiful and popular C. got etli manti ($15.95), a Turkish-style ravioli stuffed with lamb (what else?), squash and onions. A whole section of the menu is dedicated to pide, a pizza-like Turkish pastry that is stuffed with various ingredients. We tried the spinach pide ($12.99), which came with a hearty mix of feta, onions, tomatoes and spinach.

Special mention should be made of Bosphorous' wine selection from the Turkish Kavaklidere winery. A deliciously tannic red paired well with the olive oil-rich cuisine, while the white variety was refreshingly fruity. I also couldn't get enough of the nonalcoholic beverages imported from Turkey, especially the mouth-puckering cherry juice ($2).

After making our way through the surfeit of victuals that Bosphorous has to offer, we went outside so that some of my friends could smoke the nargile, or water pipe, while I chowed on some homemade baklava ($5.50) and Turkish coffee ($2.50). Wafts of apple-scented smoke piled up around us as straight-laced Winter Parkers passed with mouths agape at this beautifully derelict form of entertainment taking over the block. The owners of Bosphorous fell in love with Park Avenue and moved down from New York, bringing four Turkish chefs in tow, just to open their restaurant. I'd go a lot further than that for this food.

 

UCF-area café-deli caters to a diverse clientele, many of whom come for the all-halal menu and cut-rate prices. Don’t pass up the amazing hummus. Spit-fired shawarmas and gyros keep the college set content, and meaty platters offer more bang for your buck. End with Turkish coffee and baklava fragrant with orange-blossom water. Closed Sundays. 

Teaser: UCF-area café-deli caters to a diverse clientele, many of whom come for the all-halal menu and cut-rate prices. Don't pass up the amazing hummus, though fat kibbeh make worthy starters too. Spit-fired shawarmas and gyros keep the college set content, and meaty platters offer more bang for your buck. End with Turkish coffee and baklava fragrant with orange-blossom water. Closed Sundays.

I'm an appetizer fanatic. Gimme a big assortment of little dishes and I am happy. That's why Korean, Indian and Chinese food pleases me so much. Now, with the opening of Cedar's Restaurant, I can add Lebanese to that list.

In a break from the Corporate Fooding of the Sand Lake Road corridor through the Dr. Phillips area, Cedar's is privately owned, and it's hard to beat the hands-on care. With a background in restaurants in New York, the owners say they wanted to "present healthy, well-made food" to Central Florida, and they've succeeded.

In a break from the Corporate Fooding of the Sand Lake Road corridor through the Dr. Phillips area, Cedar's is privately owned, and it's hard to beat the hands-on care. With a background in restaurants in New York, the owners say they wanted to "present healthy, well-made food" to Central Florida, and they've succeeded.

My other obsession is food that is authentically traditional, and Cedar's, in a pistachio nutshell, does it right. Their spin on traditional Lebanese seems to be a lightness of texture and flavor that is both refreshing and inviting. If you're familiar, with Middle Eastern food you won't be disappointed. But if your only experience has been leaden falafel and overwhelming spices, you are in for a treat.

My other obsession is food that is authentically traditional, and Cedar's, in a pistachio nutshell, does it right. Their spin on traditional Lebanese seems to be a lightness of texture and flavor that is both refreshing and inviting. If you're familiar, with Middle Eastern food you won't be disappointed. But if your only experience has been leaden falafel and overwhelming spices, you are in for a treat.

There are far too many appetizers to describe. Even the small pitas are splendid, puffy and hot from the clay oven. Use them to scoop up baba ghannouj, a smooth roasted eggplant and garlic puree with a wonderfully smokey taste ($3.75), as well as shanklish, crumbled cheese blended with thyme, onions and tomato that's so creamy it literally does melt in your mouth ($4.75). Falafel (fried chick peas and bean patties; $3.75) is far lighter than I've ever come across, and a tasty pleasure. The very traditional kebbeh ($4.25) is a flavorful cracked wheat ball stuffed with ground meat and onions.

There are far too many appetizers to describe. Even the small pitas are splendid, puffy and hot from the clay oven. Use them to scoop up baba ghannouj, a smooth roasted eggplant and garlic puree with a wonderfully smokey taste ($3.75), as well as shanklish, crumbled cheese blended with thyme, onions and tomato that's so creamy it literally does melt in your mouth ($4.75). Falafel (fried chick peas and bean patties; $3.75) is far lighter than I've ever come across, and a tasty pleasure. The very traditional kebbeh ($4.25) is a flavorful cracked wheat ball stuffed with ground meat and onions.

If you want to start with something familiar, here's a restaurant that knows its shish kabobs ($14.75) – cubes of marinated lamb, slow roasted and tender. When you feel adventurous, move on to mouloukhieh ($10.75), chicken with malow leaves, cilantro and garlic.

If you want to start with something familiar, here's a restaurant that knows its shish kabobs ($14.75) – cubes of marinated lamb, slow roasted and tender. When you feel adventurous, move on to mouloukhieh ($10.75), chicken with malow leaves, cilantro and garlic.

"Sultan Ibrahim" ($16) is a plateful of small red mullet (I had five), an ancient coastal fish that has a deep, freshwater flavor and is seldom served in the U.S. The fish are served whole and it takes work to get around the bones. But it's delicious, accompanied by tender fried-eggplant rounds and sesame tahini sauce, and worth the effort.

"Sultan Ibrahim" ($16) is a plateful of small red mullet (I had five), an ancient coastal fish that has a deep, freshwater flavor and is seldom served in the U.S. The fish are served whole and it takes work to get around the bones. But it's delicious, accompanied by tender fried-eggplant rounds and sesame tahini sauce, and worth the effort.

The place itself is light and window-filled, with Ottoman arches, columns and a pleasant dining terrace. Be sure to eat just the right amount so you're sleepy enough to offset the jolt of pure caffeine disguised as Turkish coffee. It's a delicate balance that may take two or three visits to get right. Fortunately, you'll enjoy every attempt.

Chickpeas Fresh Mediterranean Kitchen is open during the COVID-19 period for take-out and delivery. Just call ahead of time to pick up, or use Uber Eats, Grubhub or Doordash.

College students and cheap, ethnic eateries seem to go hand in hand. Where there's a school of higher learning, you'll usually find a stable of offbeat, funky restaurants where the young and impoverished can chart untried culinary territory.

For sure, the University of Central Florida area needs more of these type of restaurants. But for the last nine years, while the surrounding area exploded with cookie-cutter subdivisions and food chains, the low-key Falafel Cafe has been dishing out a taste of the Middle East to students and others hooked on the culture's culinary favors.

Falafel Cafe is quite small, with less than two dozen tables. There's no view to speak of, but an enormous painting dominates the entrance, capturing a scene from the Beirut waterfront. Back in the 1970s, that's where chef Hind Dajani perfected her recipes as a mother of four. Piped-in Middle Eastern music enhances the cuisine. And while service isn't always fast, it's usually friendly.

Descriptions of each dish make the menu reader-friendly. And if you can't commit to any one item, skip the entrees and fill up on tapas-style appetizers, which are in the $2 to $5 range.

Vegetarian dishes are a Middle Eastern strength, and Dajani is particularly deft with the namesake falafels ($3.99) – fried croquettes made with crushed garbanzo and fava beans, onions and a mixed bag of seasonings. They're delicious by themselves or dipped in the accompanying tahini sauce, a thick paste of ground sesame seeds. Kibbe balls ($4.99) are similar, except they're made with bulghur wheat and seasoned ground beef.

Falafel Cafe's hummus ($2.49) is creamy and tempting, made with pureed garbanzo beans, sesame sauce, olive oil and garlic. A splash of lemon brings out the naturally nutty flavors. Baba ghanoush ($2.49) gets a similar treatment, made of eggplant mashed to a pulp and mixed with yogurt. Use it as a dip for pita bread, or better yet, ask for the garlic bread pita ($1.99), which is brushed with butter and minced garlic.

The success of the simple "cedar salad" ($7.99) is in the fresh ingredients. Bright greens are topped with herb-crusted chicken kababs, olives and peppers. Pickled turnips add hot-pink color.

When you're in the mood for warm, hearty Middle Eastern cooking, you'll find it here.

Tucked in a corner of the Dr. Phillips Marketplace, this humble eatery may not have the cachet of its neighbor Anatolia, but as a kebaberia, it more than holds it down. The exclellent rice complements flavorful kafta kebab, shish tawook and rack of lmb. Traditional starters are all worthy, but consider crunchy fattoush sala and pizza-like safiha for a change. Baklava is served cold, but Turkish coffee is properly steaming,.

Teaser: Tucked in a corner of the Dr. Phillips Marketplace, this humble eatery may not have the cachet of its neighbor Anatolia, but as a kebaberia, it more than holds its own. The excellent rice complements flavorful kafta kebab, shish tawook and rack of lamb. Traditional starters are all worthy, but consider crunchy fattoush salad and pizza-like safiha for a change. Baklava is served cold, but Turkish coffee is properly steaming.

I've never been to Greece, but I hear that eating at restaurants is mostly an outdoor affair. This fact bodes well for the Greek Corner on Orange Avenue, where the outside tables afford a picturesque view over Lake Ivanhoe. Formerly the home of Tiramisu Café, the new restaurant has a better grasp of Greek food than Tiramisu had of Italian. And there's a logical reason for that: The Greek Corner is owned by Demetrius and Tia Tsafonias, a husband-and-wife team from a small village outside Athens, Greece. The couple ran restaurants in the northern U.S. for years before coming south.

The inside space is still cramped and a little cheesy, but fortunately the outside space has been gussied up in Greek décor and is still a great asset. When the weather is right, it's lovely to sit on the patio, looking over the lake that's pooled in front of the downtown skyline, nibbling dolmathakia ($6.50), tightly wrapped cigars of grape leaves surrounding rice spiced with dill, mint and pungent lemon.

Some of the earliest written records about Mediterranean cuisine come from ancient Greece, but the Greek cuisine of today is more closely linked with the Albanians and Turks. Proud of their culinary history, many Greeks would be distressed to hear that their country's cuisine was influenced by surrounding Mediterranean countries, rather than the other way around. For instance, we can thank the Albanians on the Isle of Crete for the technique of spit-roasting used in traditional Greek kebab dishes. Another influence on modern Greek cooking comes from the Byzantine era, which heralded the emergence of the popular dish moussaka ($13.50), concocted with eggplant and lamb baked in béchamel sauce.

The most awe-inspiring dish I ordered at Greek Corner was the hot meze platter ($12.50), one of the restaurant's specialties. Four of us ordered the appetizer, which is recommended for two people, and we were stuffed silly before we finished. The platter has a dizzying array of samplings from the menu, including two distinct salads that deserve honorable mention: melitzanosalat, made from roasted eggplant and red pepper, is smoky and sultry; and taramosalata, featuring the oceany flavor of whipped orange caviar. Besides these two salads, the big fat Greek appetizer brimmed with baked feta, gyro meat, braised lamb and more. If we had known the huge portions on the meze, we wouldn't have ordered the calamari ($8.50) appetizer, which was chewy but had flavor. Its red sauce tasted mostly of the grassy finish of Greek olive oil.

There were many other starters, including the ever-present spanikopita ($6), which stems from a traditional Lent snack. Greek Corner's is a standard envelope of phyllo stuffed with tangy feta and spinach so well-cooked that it almost tastes more like an herb than a vegetable. The Greek salad ($6.75) is an OK version of what you'd expect – mixed greens with tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, kalamata olives and fresh feta cheese with a dressing loaded with oregano. Avgolemono soup ($3), so named from the Greek words for "egg" and "lemon" and heavy on both ingredients, is a chicken soup stocked with bright lemon juice and musky black pepper as well as ribbons of egg yolk.

Among the entrees, the braised lamb ($13.95) was one of the best. The meat was succulently tender and had a heavy sauce rich with sweet spices – I tasted cinnamon, nutmeg and garlic. Pastitsio ($13.50), the Greek version of lasagna, was perfectly crusty and crunchy on the outside, while having an inner layer that was pliable and soft. Spiced beef and cream sauce with a hint of nutmeg rounded out the ziti-like pasta. Culinary historians might be interested to know that pastitsio has both Italian and Muslim influences – Italian in name but Muslim in technique.

We couldn't leave without indulging in the baklava ($2.50) with walnuts drenched in simple syrup. The homemade galaktoboureko ($3.50) may be more difficult to say but is vastly better, featuring a lemony custard. As is Greek tradition, your belly will be full as you finish those last bites of dessert and look out over Lake Ivanhoe, wondering if you'll be able to get up and walk.

No lamb?, I incredulously asked myself. Poring over the streamlined menu at the counter of Habibi Fine Lebanese Cuisine, I noticed beef and chicken were well-represented, but the staple meat defining Middle Eastern cooking was nowhere to be seen. Feeling somewhat nonplussed, I posed the question to owner Frank Ashriki, a seasoned restaurateur who traded the refined rues of Montreal for the boilerplate boulevards of MetroWest. A downward glance, a deliberate pause and an uncomfortable wriggle later, the response: 'We plan on having lamb on the menu soon.� Not that Habibi's culinary legitimacy rests solely on rotisseried ruminants, but a Lebanese restaurant without lamb is, well, like Certs without the Retsyn�. 

So for the time being we settled and, ultimately, really settled into Habibi's two-meat offerings, but not before getting our fill of their vegetarian platter ($8). A cluster of standards ' fresh-fried falafel, smoky babaganoush, hummus, tabouli and incomparably lemony grape leaves ' it's a flesh-spurner's delight. Just keep in mind that allowing falafel to cool zaps it of its moisture, so eat the tahini-drizzled orbs first. 

At the hub of the platter sat a sliver of eggplant coiled around fluffy toum, the garlicky white sauce often dolloped alongside chicken kebabs. Speaking of those, the flame-licked pieces of poultry were a highlight of the combo kebab ($13.99), with or without a toum dip. Biting into fattened morsels of beef and peppery kefta provoked the most vocal mm-mmm moments ' moments which, given our choice of outdoor seating, seemed to rouse the interests of passers-by. Granted, most of them were heading to Habibi's anyway, primarily for takeout. The two booths and counter seating inside the atmo-less space don't exactly lend themselves to prolonged stays, yet it's not unusual to find a contingent of Arab and African patrons outside talking food and football with Frank. Being swept into the conversation is probable, and that speaks to the undeniable conviviality of the joint. 

Caught up in all the World Cup chatter, I nearly missed the fact that the fattoush salad ($3.99) lacked its characteristic toasted pita. A fattoush salad without the pita is, well, like the World Cup without its vuvuzelas. A surprising omission, to say the least, but if there's one item Habibi can toot its own horn about, it's their fried kibbeh ($1.75) and beef shawarma ($4.50). The seasoned top sirloin of the latter is shaved from a spit and, along with supremely tart pickles, radishes and tomatoes stuffed in a pita, makes for a consummate lunchtime sandwich. Take-home test: After a 10-minute sweat in a 250-degree oven, the shawarma held up just fine the following night.

The 'Fine� in 'Habibi Fine Lebanese Cuisine� is somewhat misleading. Plastic utensils and paper napkins in no way resemble the fine dining scene of Cedar's Restaurant in Dr. Phillips, but what Habibi does, it does relatively well. Most dishes are made to order, so don't expect immediate delivery of comestibles, as is customary with many counter-service eateries. And credit Ashriki for fostering Habibi's hospitable and neighborly vibe. In a single visit, it was easy to discern that Montreal's loss was MetroWest's gain. 

For grammatical correctness, the name of this Winter Park newcomer should be "House of Kabobs" – plural, not singular, as the family-owned enterprise serves several varieties of grilled skewers. But the sound of the singular "House of Kabob" has a quirky ring to it – "Hey, I'm headed over to House of Kabob, want something?" – that matches its quirky vibe. There just aren't that many Iranian fast-food joints around.

"Persian" is how one of the counter workers described the atmospheric music playing during a busy lunch hour. Further inquiry revealed that it was contemporary music from Iran – an interesting subject in itself, what with all the censorship. So while there's a sunny, modern, generic feel to House of Kabob, there is more than food inspired by Middle Eastern culture to be tasted. Traditionally, Persian cuisine makes use of spices that come together gently (no burning sensations); the lemony taste of sumac in particular imparts a clean flavor.

House of Kabob is in an upscale shopping plaza with a culinary history – The Mill brewery was the first anchor and Taqueria Quetzalcoatl originally opened there. And several other restaurants currently are under construction. It's good to see some places to eat returning to an area that's most recently been dominated by a bridal salon. The menu is small but satisfying. There are kabobs made from ground beef, chicken, scolar (a mild white fish) and "shiesh" (beef tenderloin). The kabobs can be prepared as a platter ($4.95 to $7.95), served with rice (they call it white rice but it's saffron yellow), flatbread and "shiraz" salad (with chopped cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, mint and lemon juice). Or they can be prepared as a sandwich with lettuce, tomato, red onion and cucumber ($2.95 to $4.95). Ordered cooked medium, the shiesh was bloody raw in the middle but tender; the tart sumac did wonders for the chicken, which was a favorite, as was the shiraz, a harmonious concoction.

Reasonably priced vegetarian wraps – hummus, baba ghanoush and tabouli ($3.90 small, $5.90 large) – were filling. Ask for some feta to be thrown into the mix, a worthy recommendation from the sandwich maker. There's much to be appreciated at the House of Kabob – nothing is heavy but it's protein-rich, and the centuries-old spicing is a refreshing discovery.

50 percent off wine bottles.

OBT spot is equal parts specialty grocery store, hookah supply, deli (all sorts of ready-prepared foods to take away) and lunch counter (fresh hot sandwiches sliced to order). A gaggle of smiling, gregarious women serve some of the best shawarma in town, sided with refreshing tomato-and-cucumber salad garlicky enough to ward off the undead.

Teaser: OBT spot is equal parts specialty grocery store, hookah supply, deli (all sorts of ready-prepared foods to take away) and lunch counter (fresh hot sandwiches sliced to order). A gaggle of smiling, gregarious women serve some of the best shawarma in town, sided with refreshing tomato-and-cucumber salad garlicky enough to ward off the undead.

Judaic dietary law dictates that in order for a kitchen to be considered kashrut, dairy products and ritually slaughtered meat (beef and chicken) need to be segregated. As a result, you won’t find cheese pizza at a kosher deli with a meat kitchen, or beef brisket at a kosher sandwich joint with a dairy kitchen. Olé Gourmet falls into the latter category, and because of the dearth of meat dishes (fish notwithstanding), it’s become a draw for area vegetarians intrigued by the mix of Mediterranean, Mexican, Italian and, of course, Israeli staples.

The small space is dominated by mustard and coffee-colored walls, not to mention a sizable open kitchen where owner Ed Leibowitz, as friendly and accommodating a chap as you’ll ever meet, along with his wife Bracha and sous-chef Meir Kokin, prepare a slew of items from the multicultural menu, often with mixed results. Fried falafel anchors the Israeli platter ($13.95) and while the crisp, greaseless chickpea croquettes met all textural requirements, the flavor had the distinct flavor and aroma of the sea, likely because they were fried in the same oil as the fish and chips ($8.95). Matbucha, a cooked salad dish brought to the Holy Land by North African immigrants, was the winner of the lot with its fiery mix of tomatoes, roasted peppers, olive oil and garlic. Tearing up a piece of pita bread and scooping up Turkish eggplant salad also proved enjoyable, but the hummus and vinegary red cabbage salad were both a tad ordinary. Baba ganoush, tahini and tabouli (items listed as part of the platter) failed to materialize, but I later learned that the platter includes falafel and your choice of five items. This isn’t evident from reading the menu, and nothing was mentioned, so the house made the selections for me.

Sesame-flecked bureka ($8.50), another Turkish staple, disappointed, but had it been served warm, it could’ve been the fulfilling, flaky, potato-filled pastry I was expecting. The ashen core of the accompanying hard-boiled egg marked it as a victim of overboiling, though garden-fresh Israeli salad – cubed cucumbers and tomatoes splashed with lemon juice and olive oil – made an ideal palate cleanser.

The mild brining and smoky essence of Nova salmon ($11.95) should please fans of the cured fish, though I can’t say I was all too crazy about the oily consistency. The platter also came with a toasted bagel, cream cheese and chopped salad.

Doughy pizza olé ($12.95) is a saucy number made all the more gooey by a liberal crumbling of feta and mozzarella cheese, and further burdened by a healthy dose of olives and onions. Ungluing a pie wedge from the plate was an exercise in patience; shoving it into my mouth required speed, agility and dexterous use of my digits. Ultimately, the slice collapsed under the weight of the toppings, but the flavors were good.

For dessert, the Mount Hermon ($5.95), a moist, chocolatey representation of the Israeli peak, is everything a warm homemade brownie should be, with two dollops of melting vanilla ice cream resembling the snowy summit. Cherry essence overwhelmed the thick slab of chocolate “mudcake” ($4.95).

Olé means “going up” in Hebrew, and it’s a fitting moniker, considering the Leibowitzes’ commitment to elevating the standards of the fare. Paring down their extensive menu and focusing on dishes they do best will help them get to that promised land.

Funny about the side streets off Park Avenue in Winter Park. While the main strip retains its, shall we say, "upscale" image, little spots along Welbourne and Morse house stores filled with small brass Buddhas, dog toys and ice cream.

Just off the corner of East Lyman, hovering near the latest and greatest shopping additions, is a little restaurant called the Power House Café. Some might call it a throwback to simpler, hippier times; this is what used to be called a "health food" restaurant. The menu is replete with tabbouleh and yogurt, sunflower seeds and bulgur wheat. But with the increased popularity of stores like Whole Foods, Power House might simply be ahead of its time.

Just off the corner of East Lyman, hovering near the latest and greatest shopping additions, is a little restaurant called the Power House Café. Some might call it a throwback to simpler, hippier times; this is what used to be called a "health food" restaurant. The menu is replete with tabbouleh and yogurt, sunflower seeds and bulgur wheat. But with the increased popularity of stores like Whole Foods, Power House might simply be ahead of its time.

Although current owner Milad Bassil took over only last year, Power House has been in business since 1970, an enviable accomplishment in a town where far more ambitious restaurants have closed and reopened several times in that span. There are tables throughout the relatively recently expanded place, but most of the action takes place at the counter, sort of a Whole Earth diner concept, where you're invited to join your fellow diners. Pitas and salads rule, as does the delicacy that single-handedly revived the blender -- the smoothie, a big glass of sweetness for $3.

Although current owner Milad Bassil took over only last year, Power House has been in business since 1970, an enviable accomplishment in a town where far more ambitious restaurants have closed and reopened several times in that span. There are tables throughout the relatively recently expanded place, but most of the action takes place at the counter, sort of a Whole Earth diner concept, where you're invited to join your fellow diners. Pitas and salads rule, as does the delicacy that single-handedly revived the blender -- the smoothie, a big glass of sweetness for $3.

From the vantage point of a counter stool, strange happenings are spotted. What's that, being spooned into the blender for a smoothie? Real strawberries? Where's the prefrozen, melted, sugared syrup we've come to expect at smoothie bars? And wait -- bananas? Not powdered 'nana extract? And they use real honey instead of white sugar. Are they trying to put me in shock? To watch the whole ingredients being placed in a well-used blender and shaken into submission is an almost thrilling reminder of how food used to be made in our younger, precorporate days. There's also a big list of yogurt shakes with granola, peanut butter and all-natural fruit juices. They're a bargain at $3.25, and if you buy six you get one free.

The solids on the menu ain't bad, either. I was very impressed with the hummus, chick peas puréed with garlic, lemon and tahini paste. The "Middle Eastern platter" ($6.95) is accompanied by lovely fried falafel patties and tabbouleh, the rich, green parsley salad mixed with cracked wheat and fresh tomato. An unusual item is a chicken salad mixed with carrots, deliciously sweet and served on apple slices and raisins ($4.50). Or try something as simple as a veggie sandwich with avocado on a pita ($4.50), and savor the fresh aromas.

The solids on the menu ain't bad, either. I was very impressed with the hummus, chick peas puréed with garlic, lemon and tahini paste. The "Middle Eastern platter" ($6.95) is accompanied by lovely fried falafel patties and tabbouleh, the rich, green parsley salad mixed with cracked wheat and fresh tomato. An unusual item is a chicken salad mixed with carrots, deliciously sweet and served on apple slices and raisins ($4.50). Or try something as simple as a veggie sandwich with avocado on a pita ($4.50), and savor the fresh aromas.

Every menu item has a calorie listing, and side items like yogurt-cucumber dressing or lemon sauce make for great touches. Join the gang at the counter.

I waited a long time for Shiraz Grill to open. Each time I drove by and saw the lights of the restaurant's stylized marquee illuminating a Moghul-style font, I drooled at the notion of devouring their charbroiled kebabs. And when it finally opened a couple of months later, my drooling problem had ceased, only to be supplanted by full-fledged salivary incontinence in anticipation of my first meal here.

Shiraz Grill is a pet project of chef/owner Ali Zarazel, an IT professional by trade who, like so many budding restaurateurs, left his day job to devote all his time and energy into running a restaurant. A bold move, to say the least, but Zarazel possesses an acute understanding and passion for the culinary variations of his home country of Iran, not to mention an unfailing entrepreneurial spirit ' qualities that could tip the scales of success in his favor.

Flamenco and belly dancers shake and shimmy through Shiraz Grill's hookah-friendly patio on weekend nights, but it's the kitchen that ultimately struts its stuff. Kashk o bademjan ($6.95), a smoky starter of pureed aubergines drizzled with cream of whey, is as dip-worthy as any hummus, and livened further by a finish of dried mint and sweet fried onions. The hummus ($6.95) is infused with more garlic than in other Middle Eastern establishments, while the falafel ($6.95) was more crumbly than crisp.

I'll get to the kebabs, but not before a mention of the outstanding khoreshts, or Persian stews. If I weren't such a kebabophile, I'd luxuriate in the smooth, rich pomegranate sauce of the khoresht e fesenjan ($14.95) each time out. The dusky stew is made with chicken and sprinkled with walnuts, but it's the pomegranate sauce that makes an immediate impression on the palate, and a lasting one at that. Faintly sweet khoresht e qeymeh ($14.95) is a milder stew of cubed sirloin, coriander and fenugreek leaves, zested with dried lime. Both dishes are best enjoyed with zereshk polo ($6.99), a hillock of rice pilaf perfumed with saffron and jeweled with sweet crimson barberries.

Zereshk polo is, in fact, my carb of choice when enjoying the real pièces de résistance, those exquisite plates of skewered meats bathed in a sublime marinade of olive oil, saffron and garlic. The shish kebab ($18.95) is a regal course of exceptionally pliant chunks of filet mignon interspersed with onions, green peppers and tomatoes, while the koobideh kabob ($11.95), two skewers of lean ground beef, has a workingman's price, but is equally rich in flavor.

Each buxom bite of boneless chicken breast ($16.95) is as succulent as the next, but a freckling of lemony sumac gives just the right zing. Chicken tenderloin ($18.95) is sectioned, pounded, then marinated before being carefully threaded onto a skewer, resulting in morsels undulating in contour, though slightly dry.

Closure is provided by a glacial orb of syrupy sweet faloodeh ($4.50), a toothsome and refreshing dessert made popular in Shiraz, Iran. Thin vermicelli noodles are frozen in cornstarch and drowned in rosewater. Also worth a try is the bastani ($4.50), a creamy pistachio ice cream made fresh on the premises.

I've had the pleasure of dining here on numerous occasions, and the restaurant refines itself with every subsequent visit. Fine tapestries and brocaded curtains accentuate a gleaming interior, and the wait staff serves with a cheerful alacrity, though they can be easily distracted. Yeah, the cheesy Persian music videos are a little tiring, and the prices are high, but an $8.95 lunch buffet is one of the best deals in town, and an irresistible, even mouthwatering, lure.