Lebanese home kitchen in Cambridge

| Text size + By Arthi Subramaniam
July 17, 2003

Cafe Barada

2269 Massachusetts Ave.,
Cambridge
Phone
617-354-2112
Cuisine
Lebanese
Globe rating
Hours
Mon.-Sat. 11 a.m.-10 p.m.
Credit cards
Visa, Master Card.
Handicap access
Fully accessible.

Youssef Salameh knows his regular patrons well. He greets a family of three with an "I recognize you" smile, giving the little girl a friendly pat on her back and then shaking her father's hand. He tells another family on their way out to have a good vacation. He goes around the tables and has little chats with the diners.

Salameh says many of his regulars date back to the days when Cafe Barada, named after his hometown in Lebanon, was in Arlington. "When people come in here, they feel like they are eating in their kitchen. They get gourmet homemade food," he says. He had wanted to leave the Boston area, and so he sold the Arlington site.

"But then 9/11 happened, and it was difficult to move," Salameh says. So he and his family opened the north Cambridge site last November.

The restaurant seats 19 but feels roomier with the tables spaced sufficiently apart and the decor kept to a minimum. Middle Eastern-style coffeepots line a shelf on one side of the room. Copper plates, paintings, and a map of Lebanon adorn the other walls.

The no-froufrou style extends to the menu. Salameh doesn't go for the visual razzle-dazzle; instead he focuses on the depth of the flavors and a simplicity that often translates to satisfaction. "My goal is to keep the quality consistent," he says.

He achieves that by maintaining a down-home touch to the fare. Start with the familiar hummus ($4.75). The thick, creamy blend of chickpeas, tahini, and lemon juice with a dusting of paprika is piquant and comes with soft wedges of pita bread. The mujeddara ($4.95), a brown mixture of spiced lentils, rice, and onions, is not a candidate for a photo-op. But my, oh my, it is so flavorful that it is hard to move on to the next item.

The reddish-brown lahma baajee ($3.25), a thin bread topped with finely chopped beef, spices, and tomatoes, is crisp and tasty. But it makes you want to root for the spices that lose to the sweet tomatoes.

The falafel sandwich ($5.95) is monstrous, but the patties made with chickpeas and fava beans give you an excuse to finish without guilt. The falafels are crisp on the outside and soft inside. The tangy tahini sauce gives an added lift. The labne ($4.50), a creamy, sour yogurt cheese sprinkled with crushed black pepper, is wonderful for slathering on the falafel. Tightly wrapped grape leaves ($12.95), stuffed with rice and beef, are delicate and delicious. The chicken shish kebabs ($11.95) are grilled to perfection, crisply browned around the edges but moist within. They come with aromatic rice speckled with vermicelli.

Unfortunately, not all the daily specials listed on the menu are available every day. Salameh says the menu is based on what is available in the market. "Usually, we offer one vegetarian and one meat dish," he says.

So if you are lucky, lubia ($8.95), string beans cooked with lamb and onions in a mild tomato sauce, and koosa ($8.95), a vegetable stew with zucchini, carrots and green peppers, will be among that day's offerings. The sauce in both is mild and delectable, and the other ingredients make for a winning combination. The lamb is so tender that it simply dissolves once you bite into it. The spinach pie with feta cheese baked in flaky phyllo dough is tangy and to swoon for. The fasoolia ($7.95), kidney beans and onions in tomato sauce, is disappointing because the beans overpower just about every other flavor.

For dessert, you get a choice of baklava or rice pudding. The baklava, filled with walnuts and pistachios, is delicious -- not too sweet and with the buttery goodness that the pastry should have. The rice pudding topped with cinnamon and pistachios is entrancing, and you quickly lose yourself to a creamy extravaganza.

When Salameh entered the restaurant business 18 years ago, his mother came from Lebanon to teach him to cook. "Now she says that I cook better than she does," he says modestly. Just as his mom recognizes Salameh's culinary prowess, so do his regular patrons.