Acollection of cuisines
Arbequina, a new Roncesvalles halal restaurant, offers a unique, upscale iftar menu for Ramadan
There’s no shortage of fine-dining restaurants in Toronto, but as a coworker recently pointed out, the choices become slim if you’re looking for halal menus. That’s why she enthusiastically recommended Arbequina, the self-described Levantine-inspired restaurant that opened last month at 325 Roncesvalles Ave., which is offering a prixfixe iftar meal throughout Ramadan.
The restaurant’s menu reflects the increasingly diverse palates of Torontonians. Besides the meat being halal, the drinks come zeroproof (local breweries and retailers also have been upping their alcohol-free options), and one of my favourite mains, a root vegetable soufflé (which also requires the most technical skill), happens to be vegetarian. Arbequina’s philosophy suggests everyone should have the opportunity to splurge on a meal.
“This cuisine is my cuisine,” said owner-chef Moeen Abuzaid. “I’ve been cooking for 27 years, and our cuisine is my collection from all the countries I’ve cooked in.”
While Abuzaid’s Palestinian-Jordanian background forms the foundation of the dishes, hints of East Asian and modern Scandinavian influences pop up along the way. The djaj mashwi (grilled chicken), for example, is served as Korean lettuce wraps. And brussels sprouts leaves on top of seared sea bass remind me of fish scales.
Abuzaid’s thoughts outpace his words as he tries to list the ingredients and textures of various dishes, before he simply brings out plates to be judged on their own.
The meal starts with a warm, buttery, brioche-like bun sprinkled with za’atar spice and served with a side of whipped labneh. Another plate features flaky flatbreads topped with muhammara, a traditional roasted red pepper and walnut dip, which is given a sweet tang with the addition of tomatoes. Then there are brined and fried lamb chops, which have the texture of schnitzel and are topped with a roasted eggplant puree containing a hint of cumin.
The pillowy soufflé of butternut squash and sunchoke with a cashew cream poured on top is finished with squash chips and a salsa made from the squash seeds. Crispy blackened chicken is marinated in chili paste, cardamom, garlic, onion and yogurt, and served with Bibb lettuce, pickled radish, aioli and house-made hot sauce (a nod to Korean bossam).
Drinks-wise, there are warmweather concoctions such as the herbal Green Pristine (cucumber, lemon, jalapeno), an alcohol-free mojito with a hint of juniper, and a fruity Lychee Pink with notes of strawberry and peppercorn.
The restaurant’s $110 prix-fixe iftar set is a sampler featuring such plates as the lamb chop and chicken, along with short ribs, lentil soup, kale salad, dates, beef sambousa, mushabak (a sweet, fried dough dessert) and a tahini cream puff. (The last seating each night is at 9:30 p.m.)
“We’re Muslim, and we just want to stay true to ourselves to be successful,” said co-owner Asma SyedAbuzaid, Abuzaid’s wife. “Diners who eat halal also like to eat delicious and beautiful food. There aren’t as many options (in Toronto), and I think we fill that (need).”
Abuzaid grew up in Jabal Al Taj, a neighbourhood in Jordan’s capital city of Amman, just a short drive from al-Wehdat, the Palestinian refugee camp where his parents previously lived.
He went to a United Nations Relief and Works Agency school as a child, and in high school was placed in a government-run co-op program where he volunteered as a camp cook and took an interest in the kitchen.
He made his way into the country’s hotel kitchens before moving to New York City in 2009 to pursue a career in fine dining and start his own pop-up series, the Broken English, which combined the flavours of his heritage with the New Nordic style of cooking that was sweeping the culinary world (think Noma).
In New York, he met Asma, who was working for the United Nations. At the start of the pandemic in early 2020, the pair moved to Toronto, where she was born and raised, spending the bulk of their time with their newborn and figuring out what to do next.
Last July, a space vacated by Italian grocer Alimentari came on the market and the pair moved in. (They now occupy a larger space a few doors down.)
Arbequina is named for an olive tree, and that theme runs throughout the narrow dining room, from the dark green walls to the framed painting of an arbequina tree by Palestinian-Canadian artist Dalia Elcharbini. There’s a back room reserved for events, and soon the duo will introduce brunch service (perhaps even more popular than dinner with the weekend Roncesvalles crowd).
“We’re humbled by the response of the community so far,” SyedAbuzaid said. “We poured our heart into this place.
“You won’t get hummus or falafel, but you’ll get seared sea bass with grape leaves and buns with za’atar. This is us.”