I don’t know if you knew this or not but I am of Syrian descent. My grandparents were born in Aleppo, Syria in the late 1800s and came the U.S. in the early 1900s. They settled in the Bensonhurst section of Brooklyn, along with other Syrians from Aleppo, forming a community of Syrian Sephardic Jews. The community thrived financially, culturally and population wise from the 1950s until current time. Even today they believe in having large families and it’s common for couples to have four and five children. In fact the community is now over 100,000 people and most of them still live in Flatbush, Brooklyn in the Kings Highway and Midwood areas.
In the Jewish religion, Friday night is the feast night because of the Saturday Sabbath, much like Sunday lunch in the Catholic religion. My mother was an okay cook during the week but every Friday night she would pull out all the stops and dazzle us with her Syrian specialties.
The recipes were handed down from many generations of other Syrian women and from both sides of the family. The dishes were of course made by hand requiring many hours to prepare, and best of all made with love and pride. I have a large extended family on both sides and every female cousin or aunt has a dish they claim they make the best. For my mother it was hands down her mihshi. Mihshi is usually made of hollowed out squash and zucchini shells stuffed with meat, rice, tomato sauce, then slow baked. My mother made a different version, and perhaps this was the reason hers was the best. Instead of squash and zucchini shells, she would use dried eggplant shells, which she bought in the specialty store, since they didn’t exist in the supermarket, and then she would add dried apricots and prunes and a dab of prune butter. She would then stew them in a pot for hours so they were as tender as can be. The sweet and sour taste was sensational and I could easily eat the whole pot if the rest of the family wasn’t around.
It’s almost impossible to find Syrian food the way my mother made it at a restaurant and the only place I knew of when I lived in NYC that sold this type of Syrian food was a stretch along Kings Highway in Brooklyn, where there are a score of Syrian gourmet and grocery shops.
Once I moved to Paris I was yearning my mother’s mihshi, and every time I went to New York, she would make it. Unfortunately my mother passed away in 2012, and with her went her legendary mihshi. I was foolish not to learn her recipe when she was alive.
Skipping forward to two weeks ago in Paris, I was walking from a friend’s apartment in the 5th arr. to the metro and stumbled upon a newly opened restaurant, Ayadi Gourmet. Upon closer inspection the awning sign said fait maison/Specialité Syrienne/ homemade Syrian specialties. Bingo! I went inside curious to look at the food and menu. A counter with a glass partition had an array of ornate brass chafing dishes, each with a special dish.
The intriguing and appetizing menu listed the restaurant as the World’s First Specialty Concept in the Art of Fatteh, a traditional Syrian dish with layers of pita bread chips, tahini yogurt sauce and toasted nuts, a major YUM already, even before I tried it. I ordered Fatteh Jaj with chicken, rice, tahini sauce, and pine nuts and it was fantastic, such a new and uncharted taste sensation, yet my taste buds sent a message to my brain saying they remembered many of the spices.
I spoke with the owner Ghena, who was warm and welcoming, at length. She told me the restaurant was a concept she had toiled for close to four years and she finally opened her pride and joy just a few days before. All the furnishings and much of the kitchenware and serving pieces were custom made to her specifications in Syria. It certainly showed as Ayadi Gourmet was one of the most attractive takeout restaurants I’ve seen, decorated with lacquered white, elaborately carved chairs, white marble floors, wood beam ceiling, and a wall sculpture of gold branches. I shared with Ghena about my mother’s mihshi and she beamed and said that was her signature dish too and told me it’s not on the permanent menu but she prepares every few weeks as a plat du jour. “You must come and try my mihshi. I will text you next time I make and you will come and try it as my guest.” DEAL, I emphatically replied!
The following week during heat wave 2, Ghena texted me she was serving mihshi the next day. I ended up coming two days later with Vincent, but there was still leftover mihshi, thank goodness. Ghena filled a white bowl with three minchi, swimming in a tomato and herb broth. The scent was overwhelming and I could barely wait to try it. It was very much like my mothers, although I did miss the prunes and apricots, but the best thing was that it had the same soft, melt in your mouth, texture my mother’s had and the unique blend of spices. Again, like my mother’s, I could have eaten the whole pot, but had to settle for the plate I was served.
Happy, happy, and happier after having my minshi, I needed something sweet to overcome the strong spices. My grandmother used to make maamol, which was a pastry shell with powdered sugar on top stuffed with chopped pistachio nuts. The version at Ayadi was quite different. It was served warm and topped with a light, sweetened cheese. Light but satisfying, the maamol was a perfect pastry to end the meal with.
Hopefully Ghena will text me again soon with a mihshi alert and I will gladly go to Ayadi Gourmet again for a bit of nostalgia.
17 Rue Frédéric Sauton, 75005
Metro: Maubert-Mutualite
Open Tuesday to Sunday 12PM-10:30PM, except Sunday until 3PM
Tel. 01 42 03 34 52
Please read the blog post about my memories of my mother https://www.ipreferparis.net/2014/06/adele-dulie-nahem-a-celebration.html
Ghena
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