12 July 25th-July 31st, 2024 phoenixnewtimes.com PHOENIX NEW TIMES | NEWS | FEATURE | FOOD & DRINK | ARTS & CULTURE | MUSIC | CONCERTS | CANNABIS | than 12,000 Iraqi refugees have settled in Phoenix. Like many others, Ghaleb and Naoosh were drawn here by a climate that’s similar to their home and a well- established Iraqi community built by local resettlement agencies. Still, even with a built-in audience, launching a new restaurant is a trial. And unlike immigrants who sometimes have years or decades to plan a transition, refu- gees are resettled quickly and unexpect- edly, often spending years learning English, saving money and establishing roots before they’re positioned to open a business. Then, of course, there’s the question of which audience to target. The meaning of ‘Mediterranean’ The restaurant’s sign says “Mediterranean,” but that’s a bit of a misnomer. The geographically astute will note that, while it isn’t terribly far away, Iraq has no Mediterranean coastline. But Ghaleb’s no fool, and it didn’t take him long to decode and mimic the local lingo. To be fair, the myriad cuisines and cultures of the region are fluid, defying whatever territorial lines we’ve most recently drawn on the map. Iraqi cuisine shares much with the Levantine nations of the eastern Mediterranean, which in turn share much with the sea’s northern and southern coasts, and so on. Good food knows no borders, and it isn’t hard to trace its path from Italy to Istanbul to Iraq, and vice versa. But “Mediterranean” in Phoenix — and most of the United States, for that matter — is less often a descriptive term than it is shorthand for the crossover hits of Arab cuisine. People like what they know, and the word “Mediterranean” creates the expecta- tion that they’re going to get it, however simplified that expectation may be. Ghaleb and Naoosh know that food. They grew up with some of it, and it’s the food I first saw on their menu. They make it well. Shawarma shop standards A piping hot cup of gently spiced yellow lentil soup — gratis — is always a welcome harbinger. No surer sign that good things are imminent, and Eat & Go’s spit-roasted meats live up to the promise of the restau- rant’s name. Ghaleb slings one of my favorite chicken shawarma wraps in town. It’s an under- stated sort, shaved meat bundled up tight with pickles and a heavy dose of toum. But the seasoning is perfect, the meat juicy and sweet, and the perky toum packs a nice, garlicky wallop. Kofta kabobs, both beef and chicken, are simply and skillfully spiced. Ghaleb lays on just a bit of char, lending a nice sizzling crust to their tender center — a fine grind that’s thoroughly mixed but not over- worked. They pull apart with ease, which I imagine makes them difficult to grill, but that delicate texture is mighty pleasing on the palate. Good as they are, I’m equally impressed by their accompaniments. Ghaleb and Naoosh compose some lovely kabob meals — compartmentalized metal lunch trays featuring grilled meats and rice along with your choice of sides from a rotating selection. Some, like hummus and baba ghanoush, are the same as you’ll find elsewhere, albeit more creamy and flavorful than most. But I love the variety of simple vegetables that round out the trays. You may get a salad of brightly dressed red cabbage and beets, or a scoop of stewed fava beans. The tabbouleh is a sassy sort, a pile of crisp minced parsley with a touch of bulgur and tomato, all saturated with fresh lemon juice. I’ve sampled silky soft pota- toes swimming in a fresh tomato sauce and thick and creamy jajik — a cucumber, mint and yogurt salad that’s roughly analogous to tzatziki. Dig a little deeper, though, and you start to notice dishes you typically won’t find at the corner shawarma shop. Sneaky Iraqi specialties If it’s available, don’t miss the bethinjania, an eggplant and pepper salad. Slick and icy cool, it sings with a piercing sweet-sour intensity. For a hot option, pick a ladleful of tepsi baytinijan, a hearty Iraqi eggplant casserole loaded with tomatoes and onions, topped with slabs of potato. Or, forget the kabobs and give the quzi a spin. Ghaleb is proud of his quzi, and he should be. It’s an understated, homey gem of a dish. This stewed lamb shank with sweet flesh that pulls right off the bone is barely seasoned, relying on the freshness of the meat and the careful extraction of its natural flavor. The biryani beneath, on the other hand, is luxuriously spiced. Related to but more restrained than its South Asian cousins, Iraqi biryani is airy and light, built as much on aroma as it is on flavor, with a complex whiff of cinnamon, cardamom and clove. It seems like there’s a different flatbread every time I visit, but a favorite is the lahm bi ajen. This bread bears countless names and variations throughout the region, but in this instance, it’s a thin, tender flatbread spread with spiced meat and just a touch of tomato and onion. It’s straightforward and delicious, both fresh from the oven and a day later at home. Eat & Go also may become one of my favorite stops for a late breakfast. Taking a cue from visitors in the know, I sample makhlama, a spiced egg omelet with toma- toes, onions and meat. As someone who prefers a savory breakfast with a little kick, this is precisely how I like to start my day. They give the omelet a crisp brown sizzle at the edges but leave it barely set and jiggling at the core. It’s served with slices of raw tomato and onion, slivers of More than ‘Mediterranean’ from p 11 >> p 14 Some of Eat & Go’s dishes aren’t on the regular menu, but you’ll find them at the weekend buffet. Clockwise from top left, try the quzi, dolma, sweets and kubba. (Photos by Jacob Tyler Dunn)
