Middle Eastern music plays softly in the background. There is nothing much to look at inside the storefront at Al-Tarboush, save a few tables and chairs, a wall crammed full of hookahs and flavored tobacco (cola flavored tobacco, anyone?). The kitchen is just as bare bones. This is a one man operation, a genial man with a thin mustache who cooks, assembles and rings up your order. And what comes out of his kitchen is a small wonder.
The falafel (photo editor's note: they were spelling it Falafil, with an 'I') here is made with Damascus bread, the end result of which looks more like a burrito than the circular pita sandwiches more prevalent in New York. The freshly fried up falafel were toothsome on the outside, giving way to moist, fluffy center.
We also sampled the tabbouleh salad, which came packed with diced tomatoes, red onions and parsley, mildly acidic and refreshing. Delicious.
The stuffed grape leaves were perhaps the low point of the meal. The spicing was good but the rice inside was undercooked. Bereket’s grape leaves are still the tops in my book.
The spicy babaganoush plate was my favorite thing we tried. The generous serving was heaped high with tomatoes, onions, parsley and a liberal dousing of olive oil. The eggplant was smoky, spicy and silky smooth. I could eat this all day.
Despite the grape leaves, the meal was thoroughly enjoyable. The freshness of the ingredients and the deft use of spices rivals that of the best New York has to offer. Who knew that St. Louis had damn good Middle Eastern food? As we got up to leave, the proprietor with the mustache asked, “Did you enjoy the food?” We responded with a chorus of "yes's" and "thank you's". He gave us a gleaming smile and waved us goodbye.
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