Lebanese Hospitality

Lebanon. The history! The culture! The food!  Oh, the food.  But nothing brings this all together to be so delightful, so delectable, so enjoyable than the hospitality.  The Lebanese have hospitality in spades.

I have never experienced hospitality so warm and inviting, so freely given, as I experience in Lebanon.  I’m here for work but we break on my fist day in the downtown office, for lunch.  It’s just a short walk to the Beirut Souks and we choose Libanais, a Lebanese restaurant of course.

I leave it to my host, Rania, to order.  What follows a short time later is a veritable smorgasbord of food – slender vine leaves with flavorful rice filling, crunchy fattoush salad with that just right tangy dressing, little sausages (makanek/soujok) perfectly spiced, cheese filled fingers fried till they’re golden & crispy and creamy hummus accompanied by warm round pillows of freshly cooked bread.  We leave work at the office for an hour and talk about life in general until we can’t possibly eat any more.  Unsurprisingly there’s still a lot of food left which the waiter happily packs up for us to take away.

After stretching my legs to explore Downtown Beirut last night (with lunch leftovers for dinner) and another day in the office today I am invited to dinner with some more new friends from the office.  We sat for lunch today in the cafeteria, having ordered in a salad, and I chat with the group of girls, clearly friends as well as colleagues.  I feel like I’m at high school, one of the gang, it’s friendly and laid back.  It’s been a long day of work and meetings but as we drive from Hazmiyeh in Mount Lebanon back into Downtown, chasing the sunset, I am re-energized by this vibrant city coming alive for an evening of social activities.  I’m guessing most of this socializing will be centered around food.

As we arrive at Al-Sultan Brahim we catch the sunset from the rooftop restaurant and settle in to enjoy the balmy outdoors. It’s still warm from the day but not so hot as to be unpleasant.  Once again the ordering is left to our local hosts.  There seems to be a lot of negotiations but it’s all in Arabic and I can make out only a little (hummus, wahed (one) and arba (four)), hardly enough to equip me to the task.

Once again we settle in for an incredible meal.  Lightly battered tender calamari, spicy potatoes, the little sausages and cheese fingers first sampled yesterday as well as a wonder octopus dish and ribbons of crab that looks like spaghetti.  All this is accompanied by fattoush, hummus, moutable and of course the wonderful pillows of fresh Arabic bread.

The food is pretty fantastic but really, once again, it’s the company that makes the meal. I feel like I’m sitting down with old friends rather than new acquaintances.  Mira & Yvonne, both from the Beirut office, bubble with stories and anecdotes as I try to keep up.  Amr is from Egypt and we all have much in common, despite our differing backgrounds.  The conversation varies from work to young families to travel and other experiences as the sun sets and the fish course is served.

When Yvonne and Mira disappeared from the table a little earlier to ‘choose the fish’.  Now they arrive – red snapper and groper – and it’s enough for another meal. We don’t have a choice, this is a fish restaurant, one of the best in Lebanon, and we must try the fish.  It is excellent and somehow I find room to try both types.  As I sit back surveying the amount of food that is left and starting to feel slightly drowsy from the food, the wine and the long day, I reflect on just how wonderful this really is.  To be out with new friends, although we have only just met, to be with locals in a city I am just discovering where the weather is great, the food excellent and the company warm and genuine is to be spoiled indeed.

As the waiter clears the table of the leftovers we’re too full to finish I am extraordinarily surprised when dishes of desert appear in front of us. Succulent summer fruits: watermelon; rock melon; cherries as well as Arabic sweets and a frozen chocolate and nut slice that any other time I would happily devour.

The cherries are large and sweet, some of the best I have tasted and I manage a mouthful of baklava and a few slices off the chunk of watermelon Yvonne pushes towards me insisting it’s refreshing.  Somewhere along the way breakfast is mentioned – the manakeesh must be sampled – be sure to skip the hotel breakfast, “we’ll order some for you in the morning”, Mira insists.  I don’t think I’ll be able to face breakfast tomorrow before at least lunchtime.  We say our good nights as the dessert is cleared away.  I wish I could bring myself to ask for the leftovers as I did at lunch yesterday but this is a restaurant, rather than a cafe and I’m not sure it’s entirely polite at this point in the evening.  I walk back to the hotel, happily taking in the last of the evening feeling sleepy but alive as I pass dozens of restaurants filled with patrons, all with assorted platters, animatedly eating, drinking and talking.  I get the feeling even the cats receive a good deal of hospitality here.

Cats outside Skirt, a specialty steak restaurant in Downtown Beirut

The next morning I can’t face breakfast at the hotel, even if I wanted to and make my way into the office.  Yvonne spends a good deal of the day helping me sort out an issue with my hotel booking and getting me onto a tour for tomorrow.  I must see Byblos! Mira comes in mid morning with a delightful announcement that breakfast has arrived and I must try both.  As if I would try to resist.  The manakeesh – one za’atar (that delightful Middle Eastern combination of tangy herbs and sesame seeds) and one cheese.  They’re both good, warm and fresh but I do prefer the za’atar.

Mid afternoon, lunch is being ordered, I am shown the menu.  I have been invited out tonight again, this time somewhere in Mount Lebanon to watch the football (the World Cup is on) and I gratefully accept.  In the meantime, I must have a sandwich, dinner is many hours away still.  I smile and order a crab roll, knowing by now there is no point in resisting.  When the food arrives we sit in the lunchroom together and once again the atmosphere is jovial, I am once again reminded of school lunches with friends.

Not too long after lunch I look into Yvonne’s office to ask after a couple of things.  There is some discussion and a few minutes later a plate of sweets appears.  It looks so beautiful and tastes just as good.  It’s more than enough to share and I try a half but Yvonne has a plate with just as much!  I can’t finish but it’s so, so good.

I work late, it’s financial year end and there is much to do.  There is also not much point heading to the hotel and then retracing my steps through traffic clogged peak hour but by the time Maya returns to pick me up I’m almost ready to call it a day.  Luckily I get a second wind as we climb higher into the mountains.  The views are wonderful and as we twist and turn, street by street, my ears begin to pop and the air is noticeably cooler.  It’s a long way, longer than I expect and it’s late already (by my standards only it seems) as we arrive the streets are buzzing.  It’s summer, it’s warm, there is football to watch, friends to catch up with and, of course, dinner to be had.  I order a glass of wine, happy to sit back and admire the flower pots overflowing with summer blooms as much as the chef standing making piece after piece of (saj) bread before my eyes.  Maya orders after some discussions with the others.

When I arrived in Lebanon one of the questions I was asked was ” how many languages do you speak?”.  The usual question would be “do you speak another language?”.  Not here.  Feeling rather inadequate I mutter “one”.  Most Lebanese speak three languages, Arabic, French and English, seamlessly slipping from one to another as I witness on numerous occasions.  I am useless in much of the conversation tonight and every now and then Maya turns to me to translate, mercifully keeping me in the loop of happenings throughout the meal and conversation.

After another delicious and filling spread of Lebanese delights, we are all ready to call it a day.  I am happy to find a taxi to take me back to the hotel, not wanting to stretch my welcome unnecessarily but Maya insists and we weave our way back down towards the lights, the warmer air and the heavier traffic, even at this time of night.

By the time I fall into bed I can barely keep my eyes open but I lay my head down with a smile and a very full stomach.  The next morning I awake and manage some fruit, yogurt and a coffee for breakfast before my tour to Jeita Grotto, Harissa and Byblos.

At the redeveloped souks near the Byblos site, there are some souvenir shops and more cafes.  I stop in to smell the spices and pick up some marzipan sweets to take home with me.

By mid afternoon after a morning of more wonderful and amazing sights my tour guide, Francoise, leads me down to the water to Byblos Sur Mer.  Despite my best intentions, it is time for lunch.  And in this city of food and hospitality, I don’t have a choice!

Would I Return?

Yes.  But I will be sure to eat only salad leaves for at least a week beforehand in preparation (and plan for 2 weeks after as well).  This is an acceptable price to pay as you simply must taste your way around Lebanon!  It would be impolite at best to resist this kind of incredible hospitality, at worst you will have missed out on a wonderful experience and some very, very tasty meals.

A special thank you to Rania, Yvonne, Mira and Maya whose abundance of Lebanese hospitality lead to all the amazing experiences that I am able to reflect on here.  I am still eating salad!