Falafel, Fattoush, and … French Fries

La Roche offers authentic and fresh Lebanese cuisine from the original owners of Cedars.

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Just off the Lebanese coast, forever splashed by the waters of the Mediterranean and only yards away from the seaside traffic of Beirut’s Avenue Général de Gaulle, loom the two Al Raouche Rocks. For anyone who knows Lebanon, they are a timeless icon of that country and its capital city. It was for that reason that Mustapha Mustapha named the Lebanese restaurant that he and Mounir El-Mourabi recently opened the Cooper-Young.

They had already tried that approach with their previous dining venture in Cordova, Cedars, after the tree that graces Lebanon’s flag and has been associated with those lands since pre-Biblical times. Then as now, the partners hoped that a name steeped in Lebanese history and symbolism would convey their absolute dedication to preparing the most authentic Lebanese food possible.

When the partners moved on from Cedars, searching for a new direction in the restaurant business, Mustapha thought the landmark of Al Raouche would be a perfect — and literal — touchstone to christen a new joint effort. Ultimately the partners settled on the French term for Beirut’s iconic seaside stones: La Roche.

Since opening at 916 South Cooper during this year’s Cooper-Young Festival, La Roche has become a bright spot in the neighborhood, gaining a reputation, as Cedars did before it, for freshness and great attention to detail in the seasoning and preparation of its dishes. The way Mustapha sees it, such freshness and authenticity goes without saying — it’s the rock on which they’ve built their clientele. But after Cedars, they wanted to change the setting and the dynamic of how their food was enjoyed.

“Cedars was becoming too much like fast food,” he told me. “People ordering 30 sandwiches at a time, things like that, people just stopping in to pick up food to go.” The atmosphere they’re cultivating at La Roche is very different, he said. They want customers to feel like they’re eating a homecooked meal.

When a friend and I recently visited the place for a night out, that’s exactly how it felt, especially when Mustapha pulled up a chair to chat with us. Ironically, to make the place more comfortable, he explained, the partners had to strip back much of the old Midtown home which the building had once been, long ago. In so doing, they created the vibe of a freshly scrubbed, modern space, the simple lines of the blond paneling and nearly Scandinavian woodwork highlighted by plush, dark drapes here and there, and exceedingly comfortable chairs. On the front deck, where nearly all the tables were occupied on that November evening, it was more minimalist, but clearly a popular option as well.

We resisted the charms of a meal in the crisp autumnal air to better immerse ourselves in the homey atmosphere within, and we were glad we did. Sitting with us for another moment, Mustapha explained how important Lebanese cuisine is to the entire region. “Lebanese food is the best food in the Middle East,” he told us. “Everything else is a copy. Even the restaurants in Saudi Arabia, most of them are Lebanese or Syrian. Lebanese and Syrian food is the same, basically.”

Indeed, as we scanned the menu, it seemed to offer everything we loved about Middle Eastern food, both familiar and obscure. On the first page alone, tabouli, fattoush, hummus, muhammara, grape leaves, and baba ghanouj were listed as the cold appetizers, followed by hot openers like kibbeh, falafel, sambousek, cheese rolls, potato harra, and … French fries. Despite the last item’s bow to American tastes, this was a collection of dishes both common and rare — a good sign that this was not your typical fast-food falafel joint.

To get things started, we settled on the comforting standby of stuffed grape leaves, plus two things diners don’t find often enough in Middle Eastern restaurants: fattoush and sambousek. Fattoush is essentially a Romaine salad, but with telling details that make it distinctly Lebanese, such as the mint leaves mixed in with the lettuce, the generous amount of radish in the dish, the sprinkling of pita chips, and a distinctive sweet-tart sumac and pomegranate dressing. It’s a perfect study in contrasts, from the unique dressing and succulent tomatoes to the crunchy pita, cucumbers, and onions. It paired well with the generous basket of pita.

Speaking of contrasts, we also had before us a plate of sambousek, small dough pockets not unlike empanadas or Indian samosas, but stuffed with a distinctively Middle Eastern filling of ground beef, onions, and pine nuts, graced with a savory blend of coriander, cinnamon, nutmeg, and more. The dough’s outer crust had the slightest crunch, while the interior of each bite was saturated with the filling’s meat and seasoning — a delicate balance, perfectly realized at La Roche. The thin strips of cabbage, chopped parsley, and tomatoes serving as garnish added yet another dimension to the contrasts and proved to be irresistible complements to the sambousek themselves.

As for the grape leaves, much beloved in open salad bars the world over, these were of a markedly superior quality. While the stuffing of the dish can sometimes lean too heavily on the rice, and thus become overly dry or pasty, these grape leaves were stuffed with a much more delicate blend that also included minced tomatoes, onions, parsley, and a spritz of lemon, making for a much creamier interior than usual — and an irresistible appetizer.

In the meantime, our server suggested hot tea, which we immediately ordered. That certainly help create a mood of cozy familiarity, but so too did our server, who tacked back and forth between taking our orders and tending to her young son doing homework at a nearby table.

She introduced herself as El-Mourabi’s wife, Arin. Framed by her golden hijab, her eyes sparkled as she told her own story, which began well before she met her husband-to-be. For some years, she had her own food truck, but, being Indonesian rather than Lebanese, she dubbed it “Quasi Halal Asian Street Food.” It was popular, she explained, but running a food truck proved to be demanding on many levels, not the least of which was finding a commercial kitchen where she could prep her food.

Cedars, it turned out, had free time in its kitchen, and as she began using it, a bond developed between her and El-Mourabi. In the end, after their marriage she ended up closing her food truck so she could focus on the brick-and-mortar eatery, and gave up cooking commercially as well. And, remaining inside rather than sitting on the deck, we could see she was also well-suited to the roles of both hostess and overseer.

Then came the main attraction. Aiming for more variety, we ordered two platters, the mixed grill and the vegetarian. Other options included various kabobs and a falafel platter. Yet we weren’t prepared for the variety such plates offered.

The mixed grill spread included one skewer each of beef, chicken, and the very Lebanese kafta, a ground meat blend that’s also served as a kabob. These were accompanied with hummus, mayonnaise, saffron-seasoned rice, and some perfectly roasted tomatoes and red onions. It was a grill master’s dream, with the crispy, blackened corners of both meat and vegetables delivering cookout flavors galore.

Indeed, when Chef Isam D. came out (using an initial for his surname like the star he is), he told us that “the charcoal is everything,” adding that “the meat cooks in the smoke.” Having studied the cuisines of many nationalities at a Lebanese culinary school, he was clearly delighted to be specializing in the flavors of his homeland.

Such roasted flavors also permeated the vegetable plate, especially the baba ghanouj, which foregrounded the unique flavor of flame-roasted eggplant. That flavor also came through in the muhammara spread, with its main ingredient of roasted red pepper, blended and topped with a sprinkled sumac spice. Meanwhile, the falafel was perfectly fried on its exterior, yet surprisingly airy and rich in flavors inside. It may well be the best falafel I’ve ever eaten.

After Arin offered us dessert, we had one final experience in store: their trademark baklava. This too was unlike any similarly named dish I’ve had in the past, not as cloyingly sweet or soggy as it often is, balancing the flaky filo dough with a crisper upper layer that was almost reminiscent of a thin shortbread.

This was when we finally got to meet El-Mourabi himself, as he emerged from his duties behind the scenes to say hello. “It’s almost like a cookie,” he said of the baklava, noting that while they proudly make everything in the store by hand (except the pita bread, which is baked locally but will eventually be replaced by an in-house baker), the baklava, to be perfect, must be shipped from Beirut.

As he spoke, his love for his homeland was palpable. Clearly, to El-Mourabi, the people of Lebanon have perfected the art of cuisine. And hand-in-hand with that comes his family. When Mustapha married El-Mourabi’s sister, his partner became his brother-in-law, and with his wife, Arin, working the front, it clearly has become a family affair. That goes for both the welcoming company and the fresh, finely seasoned cuisine, alive with the flavors of Lebanon.

La Roche is located at 916 South Cooper Street.