Ayat, an outspoken Palestinian restaurant from New York, plans to open near Rittenhouse Square
Ayat, a Palestinian restaurant whose first location opened in late 2020 in Brooklyn, is taking over the former Roxy Theater on a restaurant row of Sansom Street.
Ayat, a Palestinian restaurant chain based in New York City, plans to open in the former Roxy Theater at 2021-23 Sansom St., on a restaurant row three blocks from Rittenhouse Square. It will be the only self-identified Palestinian restaurant in Center City, and one of few in the greater Philadelphia area.
The restaurant, which owner Abdul Elenani hopes to open within a year, will be the seventh Ayat in 3½ years. There are three locations in Brooklyn, one in Staten Island, one in Lower Manhattan, and the newest, which opened in September, in Allentown, Pa.
While Ayat was recently named one of the best 100 restaurants in New York by Times critic Pete Wells (#74) for homey Palestinian food like mansaf (a lamb stew served over saj and rice) and maklouba (a six-layer, upside-down chicken and vegetable dish), it is best known, especially outside of New York, for being outspoken about its politics. From a mural at its original location that depicts Palestinian children being held prisoner by Israeli soldiers to an Instagram account that showcases fewer pictures of food than posts about events in Palestine, its message has always been as much a part of the offering as the shawarma — and has, at times, drawn far more attention.
Elenani, 31, got the idea to open a Palestinian restaurant in early 2020 “to communicate the occupation and what’s happening there to people that are closed off from the rest of the world,” he said. “Your average John Doe and Jane Doe, they have no idea.”
A growing number of Palestinian chefs and restaurateurs have become more vocal about their identity and the roots of their food, especially amid the ascendancy of Israeli cuisine in recent years, which has left some feeling marginalized or even erased. “It’s not about the chickpeas or how you serve your hummus,” the cookbook author Reem Kassis told Inquirer critic Craig LaBan in 2021. “It’s about the history of recipes my family cooked for generations before the state of Israel even existed.”
Palestinian restaurants in the United States have not always identified themselves as such for a variety of reasons, including concerns over physical safety and avoiding prejudice. Google only began allowing restaurants to self-classify as Palestinian last February, for instance; previously, they were only able to list themselves as generically “Middle Eastern,” “Israeli,” “Lebanese,” and the like.
Elenani, who grew up in an Egyptian family in Brooklyn, was preparing to open the original Ayat when he dropped a surprise on his wife, Ayat Masoud: He was naming it after her, a Brooklyn-born lawyer raised in a Palestinian family from Jerusalem. “That was more of a romantic move, but designed to lock her in and help me out,” he said.
“It was my wife’s idea to incorporate as many traditional dishes as possible,” Elenani said. “I’m the one that’s always stopping her from adding more traditional dishes. The more of those dishes you add, the more complicated it gets.” According to Elenani, Ayat’s top sellers are shawarma; the mansaf; and fattat jaj (also known as chicken fatteh), another six-layer dish, but of roasted chicken, rice, chickpeas, mint yogurt, garlic sauce, slivered almonds, and crispy pita. Ayat makes pita as well as saj, the unleavened flatbread, and serves pizzas with toppings like cauliflower shawarma and falafel.
Six months after Ayat opened, Masoud “got too busy with the law,” according to Elenani, so she yielded the kitchen to others while remaining an owner. As for his own role, Elenani describes himself as “an orchestrator.” In addition to Ayat, he’s also an owner of Al Badawi, another Palestinian restaurant, and Fatta Mano, a halal Italian restaurant, in Brooklyn. “I’ll design the place,” he said. “I’ll make sure it goes out with a certain look.”
For Ayat, that look includes a lot of greenery and murals. The Philadelphia location, which like the others will be BYOB, will occupy side-by-side buildings. Elenani hopes to create a roof deck on one side. It will be next door to Bolo, a Puerto Rican restaurant, a few doors from Wilder, and down the street from Vic Sushi. It is also across from two Italian restaurants, Melograno and Porcini. On the corner of 20th and Sansom are Village Whiskey and a Shake Shack, and the Schulson Collective is planning Dear Daphni in the new Laurel high-rise.
Ayat’s profile has grown considerably in the last several months. Two days after the Oct. 7 attack, which killed more than 1,200 Israelis and instigated a war that has killed more than 30,000 Palestinians, Ayat issued a call to “end apartheid.” A deluge of negative online reviews followed. In December, a reporter at the British tabloid Daily Mail pointed out that the seafood section of Ayat’s menu is called “From the River to the Sea,” a phrase seen by some as a call for the destruction of the state of Israel, prompting another wave of attention. After an outcry and threats to his safety, Elenani noted that it had been on the menu “way before Oct. 7,” and added a paragraph to the menu reading, “This mantra stands for Palestinians to have equal rights and freedoms in their own country. In no way does this advocate any kind of violence. It signifies peace, and freedom.”
Ayat has also seen a swell of supporters because of its messaging. Posts to its Instagram page, which has nearly 40,000 followers, regularly pull in thousands of likes and hundreds of positive comments. Two weeks after the controversy over the menu heading, gratified by what he called “the outpouring of kindness and support,” Elenani scheduled a Shabbat dinner at one of Ayat’s Brooklyn locations.
“In the spirit of togetherness and understanding, we invite all our incredible neighbors, especially our Jewish neighbors, to a heartfelt Shabbat dinner at Ayat Restaurant,” he wrote on Instagram. “It’s not just about breaking bread; it’s about breaking barriers, fostering dialogue, and connecting on a human level.”
The free Shabbat dinner was preceded by a Shabbat service outside in a tent that Elenani had rented. More than 1,300 people showed up, the Guardian reported under the headline “Everyone and their bubbe is here.”
Months later, Elenani said he still fields “negative reviews and stuff like that.”
What does he do?
“I respond with love,” he said.