Where: 2311 Habersham St. (between 39th and 40th Streets)
Owners: Mikbel and Rose
Favorites: Falafel and hummus
Price: $4-$11
Contact: (912) 447-0400 (You can call in your order.)
Grade: A
When driving down Habersham Street to find Al Salaam Deli, I initially drove right past it. The sign is painted on the front window and tattered blue awnings hang overhead. I waited in line for my interview behind Aurash who, by his conversation, frequents the restaurant.
“How’s your brother?” Mikbel, the owner, asked Aurash.
Before I knew it, I was talking to Aurash about real estate, and a gym he recently opened. At Al Salaam Deli, you can’t feel guilty overhearing conversations, because in such close vicinity, they are easily heard.
Much like walking into an Arabic kitchen, a set of shelves are stocked with cans of fava beans and grilled eggplant, Arabic tea and olive oil. The menu is taped on the counter, separating me from the kitchen. The place can barely contain its four tables draped in blue-and-white-checked oil cloths.
Upon seeing me, Mikbel knew my face from an earlier visit that week, which surprised me because the place is seldom short on customers.
Soon after the interview started, a man walked in and I paused for Mikbel to get his order. “Oh, no,” Mikbel said to me, “he’s my friend.”
The story
Mikbel started Al Salaam with his wife Rose, who was born in the United States and has a reputation for conversation. He opened Al Salaam nine years ago after living in Savannah for eight years. Mikbel owned a deli once before, but this is his first attempt at a restaurant, and by the number of regulars, I’d say a successful one. Originally from Jordan, Mikbel created the menu based on family recipes.
“I like to cook. I like to bring different food to Savannah,” he said.
On that note, I was curious about the Philly cheese steak and hamburgers on the menu. Mikbel admits that he had to learn to cook the American dishes as opposed to the others he’d been raised making. “People come in with kids, and we needed more American food.”
The food
Upon choosing my meal, Mikbel started my order immediately. This is no venue for heat lamps or microwaves. Just as he does in his kitchen at home, each dish takes about 15 minutes to prepare. In fact, the only thing separating me from the grill was a shelf filled with bags of rice and Dubai tobacco.
Ingredients get shipped in from North Africa, Greece, Italy and the Middle East. The lamb used in the dishes differs from those in Greek restaurants because it is Halal (which means it has no hormones, similar to Kosher) and because of its Arabic spice. If the large portions aren’t a good enough selling point, the flavor surely is. The hummus is certainly the best I’ve tasted.
The last bite
“Al Salaam” means peace. “Like peace, ya know,” Mikbel said, holding up a peace sign with his hand. He and his wife run Al Salaam with a family-like hospitality, and it’s the only Arabic restaurant around. Each dish is as good as the last and flavor is never sarificed. Even amidst the stacks of canned foreign ingredients along the unfinished, spackled walls, the line between customer and friend is only a plate of falafel away.
