At Rami's kosher eatery, 14 years of shawarma

Signs of summer are everywhere in Brookline. At the Israel Bookstore on Harvard Street, the seasonal "30% off Passover Seder Plates" banner has finally come down; up the street in Coolidge Corner, Rami's kosher restaurant begins to swell with a lunchtime crowd.

"In winter they stay in," says owner Rami Cohen, 46, as he surveys the growing line. "But as the weather gets warmer and warmer, they start to come back; I'm happy to see each one of them." Cohen's customers seem happy to see him, as well. He can barely get through a thought without turning to someone else and nodding "hi" or "ahlan," an Arabic greeting shared by both Arabic and Hebrew speakers.

Rami's restaurant has been serving the same basic menu since the beginning, 14 years ago: shawarma (marinated turkey), falafel, grilled chicken, on a platter or in a pita. Occasionally, the restaurant offers hot dogs, which are served East-meets-West style, in a pita.

Kader Feham, an Algerian immigrant who has been working behind the counter for nine years, says that serving only a few carefully made dishes is a key to success. That and an immaculate space. Kader points to the gleaming shawarma grill. ''Look at that," he says proudly. ''That's 14 years. Spotless!"

Cohen, whose parents emigrated from northern Iraq to Israel, where he was born and raised, is modest about his success, saying, ''You serve good homemade food, and people will enjoy it." Small clues found in Rami's exposed kitchen hint at the larger reasons for success. A felt yarmulke dangles invitingly on a hook attached to the kitchen's fire extinguisher. ''That's for the Panamanians," Rami says. ''A group of Panamanians comes in regularly, and they like to say the blessings before they eat. So I keep this yarmulke here for them."

''I come here not just because the food's tasty, but because I feel welcome here," says Richard Sullivan, 34, from Brookline, who grew up in a strictly Catholic household. ''Rami is a neighbor in the full sense of the word."

When Sullivan first came into the restaurant, he ordered grilled chicken in pita with cheese. Rami politely informed him that his restaurant, which is strictly kosher, doesn't serve meat with cheese. But Sullivan likes eating kosher once in a while, he says. ''Kosher is part of what makes Brookline its own special place."

For the neighborhood's observant Jews, Rami's is indispensable. A breathless Orthodox Jewish man picks up a large bag of steaming dinners to go. ''I've got a lot of hungry people at home waiting for their shawarmas," he says. He nods gratefully to Kader and returns to a car that has a Hebrew bumper sticker that reads, ''Jerusalem is Ours."

But Rami's belongs to everyone. It is the unofficial center of Boston's sizeable Israeli-Jewish community (Rami sells Israeli newspapers as well as food), and Arabs from Israel and elsewhere also stop by to say hello and have lunch. Joseph Darwish, 53, of Detroit, who is originally from Jordan, says he always eats at Rami's during his trips east. ''I know a good falafel when I see it," he says.

Behind the counter, Rami and Kader banter in Hebrew, Arabic, and English. Both men have learned the other's language on the job. Rami learned Arabic years ago, while living in Israel and working with Arabs; Kader learned Hebrew during his time at Rami's. ''You pick it up," Kader says, shrugging.

Speaking of Jews and Arabs, Kader says, ''I believe that the cultures are the same. Right away, people are very direct with you, even if they don't know you. It's because you are family to them."

As if on cue, a diminutive Israeli woman pounces on Kader in rapid Hebrew. ''Hey, you forgot to serve me!" she says. ''What's with you?"

Without missing a beat, Kader quotes an ancient Hebrew expression, ''The last one is the most beloved." As he prepares the woman's falafel, she asks him where he learned to speak Hebrew so well. He smiles and presents the sandwich to her, saying, ''I learned it from you."

''People say Arabs have the best shawarma," Rami says, ''but I've never tried it." Despite his Iraqi roots, Rami's status as a Jewish Israeli doesn't permit him easy travel in much of the Middle East beyond Israel. ''I'd like to travel" to other Middle Eastern countries, Rami says. ''One day I will, when it gets quiet there."