Imad’s Syrian Kitchen (2024)

Like many restaurants in other global cities, London restaurants are currently struggling in these arduous economic times. This year alone, London has had to say goodbye to many high-profile restaurants, including Michel Roux’s iconic Le Gavroche, Marcus by Marcus Wareing, Frenchies from chef Greg Marchand and Galvin at the Windows by the talented Galvin Brothers. Add hundreds of other lesser-known restaurants, bistros, and cafes to this list and it is clear that no hospitality business is safe from this economic contagion.
Restaurateurs are struggling pay their power bills, food prices are sky rocketing; interest rates are high, and the post Brexit contractions continue to suffocate and impair the general populace. A recent report by Cambridge Econometrics states that the UK economy has shrunk by £30 billion pounds since Brexit and counting, with the average Londoner £3,400 worse off last year as a direct result.

A sodden Prime Minister Rishi Sunak is telling anyone that will listen that he will get on with “managing the economy well and cutting people’s taxes.” And while all of this is happening; Russell Brand is getting baptised in the River Thames. Just when you thought that London’s main estuary could not get any filthier, Mr Brand has decided to cleanse his sins to be born anew. Perhaps Russell could invite his mates, Prince Andrew and Kevin Spacey, down for a quick dip; complementary floaties supplied. Absolution in pollution. Ghislaine could be on the shoreline as duty lifeguard with fresh towels, and alibis.

And while our favourite damp historical revisionists, Russell and Rishi are busy truth washing, a Syrian refugee is busy rewriting his and his employee's future at a small restaurant in London called, Imad’s Syrian Kitchen.
Imad’s is owned by Imad Alarnab a chef/ entrepreneur who fled Damascus in 2015 arriving in London as a refugee via Calais where he slept on the steps of a church and cooked daily for up to 400 other refugees. Eventually he made it to London, was granted asylum and his family followed as he started to rebuild his new life. Over the the next five years Imad worked various odd jobs, whilst also cooking for charity events to support other refugees before opening his restaurant in early 2020.

The restaurant can be found on the top floor of Kingly Court a three-storey dining destination in the heart of London’s West End. On the bottom two floors, every cuisine is represented, Chinese, Spanish, and Japanese are all here. There is an Indian restaurant called Darjeeling Express and a pizzeria called Pizza Pilgrims, which is either the world’s worst food branding, or a marketing executive from Pizza Express found God. As we scale the steps to the top level, Imad’s stands proud at one end, the place has a distinct Grecian colour palette of Aegean blue window frames and white brick work.

It is early on a warm late Spring evening, and the the place is buzzing with after work colleague catch ups, tentative second dates and young families eating out early. The large L shaped room is flooded with natural light, the space is elegantly styled with greenery overhead and over sized ochre lights hanging from the whitewashed beamed ceiling. The attractive terracotta tiled floor, dark wooden tables and hessian chairs give the modest space a homey, welcoming ambiance.

The menu is short, direct, and exceptional value. It is divided into three sections;
Meze, all vegetarian dishes that are priced around £9
Mains that include lamb, chicken, and vegetarian options ranging from £14 to £19
Extras that hover around £5.
Imad’s innate sensibility about financial hardship extends to the offer of an express lunch menu for £19 which is less than some people pay for a co*cktail in the West End. Speaking of which, the co*cktails here are generally Syrian variations on the classics, a negroni has safflower infused gin and cardamom bitters and there is an interesting list of cold pressed juices and non alcoholic drinks featuring hibiscus tea, pomegranate, and agave. The concise wine list features wines from Lebanon, Syria, France, and Italy with high markups that seem discordant with the menu pricing.

The food here is simple but scrumptious, and deliciously aromatic with a steady hand on the spice levels. There is a plate of hummus, with a moat of fried chickpeas bathed in garlic infused olive oil, micro cress, and a shower of sumac which adds a tart lemon note. The pillowy charred pita bread breathes hot air, as we rip it apart it and mop up the glorious dip.

The traditional Syrian falafel arrives as five discs with a hole cut out in the middle, therefore increasing the ratio of crunchy exterior to the fluffy chickpea interior. The falafel is coated with crisp sesame seeds and sits on a smear of tahini and crowned with a wreath of pickled red onion and more sumac. They are the best savoury donuts you will ever eat and perfect with a chilled glass of Bargylus Blanc a Syrian white wine.
Next up, a stunning eggplant/cheese dish called Saroja graces our table. Six eggplant rectangles are rolled in fine breadcrumbs and fried, served with slices of squeaky halloumi and diced feta. This revelatory dish sings, the smoky aubergine flavour is underscored with the salty notes of the feta and balanced with a good lick of treacle pomegranate molasses and shredded mint. Masterful stuff.

The sublime procession of nuanced flavour continues with the main courses. Kabsah Ghanam is essentially slow roasted lamb shoulder with rice, although that would be like describing Brexit as a minor clerical error.
Ribbons of slow cooked moist lamb sit on a bed of aromatic rice that is mixed with diced onions and red peppers. The dish is fragrant with the scent of cumin, cardamom, and all spice. Add whole roasted hazelnuts and cashews and you are eating a dish that visually underpromises and over delivers with a flavour wake up call that I rarely encounter. The other main is Shis Tawook; slices of chicken breast are marinated in spices, char grilled and served with spiced potatoes, harissa mayonnaise and pita bread (because you can never have enough pita.) The dish is fun, in a KFC- Middle Eastern-chicken-zinger-youth targeted campaign kind of way. A special shout out to the outstanding side order, the Bulgar Shaeiria. Bulgur and vermicelli are cooked pilaf style until the perfumed lamb broth is absorbed; a spice mix is added as well as a tiny amount of ghee. The result is a binge worthy dish that has a persistent savoury, nutty flavour that I can still taste.

The dessert list could be headed as ‘six sweet examples of pistachio’', which is not necessarily a dreadful thing. The Baklawa is four squares of toffeed filo pastry filled with a mixture of honeyed verdant green chopped pistachios. A faultless example of this Arabic classic sweet. The “Syrian Ice Cream” is a roulade of condensed pistachio ice cream that his rolled in chopped pistachios and topped with fairy floss that the kids can fight over.

As we leave, I thank the four young chefs in the kitchen, they seem happy, keen, and rightfully proud of the plates they are putting up. I ask the manager if Imad is in the restaurant much, he says he is, but he is also “busy doing Imad things.” By which, I assume he means looking at new business opportunities, mentoring and helping refugees to achieve a better life. In his book Imad writes, “We don’t want to take advantage of anything or anyone: we want to be part of a community, to work, to play our role in society again. We are all just like you.”