Toledo is a global petri dish of good eating, in large part because of the many ethnic restaurants that provide alternatives to the Americanized chains and fast-food places. In neighborhoods all across town you'll find smaller eateries specializing in Middle Eastern, Greek, Italian, Mediterranean, Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Irish, Polish, Indian, German, Cajun, Hungarian, Mexican, and what have I missed?
We are doubly blessed to have a surfeit of excellent Lebanese restaurants - around a dozen, by my rough count. And the granddaddy of them all, the gold standard of Lebanese cuisine in Toledo, is The Beirut on Monroe Street.
Here, for the last 26 years, appreciative diners have been diving into a feast of succulent homemade choices: tender lamb in all its variations; beef, chicken, and vegetable kabobs dripping in their own juices; marinated chicken or beef shawarma slathered in tahini sauce, and char-grilled shish tawook chicken breasts, all served in generous portions and at reasonable prices.
Other Beirut entrees, salads, and sides carry strange names and delectably different tastes. Among them are fatoosh, foul
mudammas, falafel sandwiches, ara-yes kabob halabi, laban we-khiar, and baba ghannouj, all of which can be plainly translated by the seasoned Beirut servers.
Patrons, whose vehicles routinely fill the double parking lots and spill out onto neighboring streets, are drawn to The Beirut not just by the Lebanese food. One side of the familiar placemat menus offers an array of homemade Italian dishes that, to many customers, are the city's biggest surprise.
More than once, for example, I've heard The Beirut pizza declared the best in town. I happen to think that's also true of the Beirut Special - spaghetti with meat sauce, with the option of a couple of big meatballs thrown in for good measure. Not to mention the lasagna, ravioli, cannelloni, and the amazing brachioli. More on that later.
Labib Hajjar and his family own The Beirut and Byblo's, its sister restaurant on Reynolds Road, as well as Poco Piatti on Monroe Street, which specializes in appetizer-sized Mediterranean and Spanish tapas.
At The Beirut, the atmosphere lends itself well to good crowds and good food. Bright lights shine down on diners in the center of the main dining room, while arches over the booths along both sides cast patrons in cozy shadows. Sammy the bartender holds forth in the adjacent bar, where a regular clientele includes lawyers, college professors, politicians, and other workaday people stopping by for a drink or a carry-out order.
The appetizers during a recent dinner visit included kibbi aras fried - crunchy lamb balls at $2 each; a small order of stuffed grape leaves for $6, and four delicate baby lamb chops that melt in the mouth for $7. Also recommended is the $6 fatoosh, a big salad of toasted pita, cucumbers, tomatoes, parsley, and mint tossed with olive oil and lemon juice.
For entrees, we again went for lamb, this time roast shank-o-lamb ($11.50), succulent, fall-off-the-bone meat with fresh vegetables and nutty-flavored rice. Beirut best ($13) brought together hommus and marinated filet tips with lemon sauce. The popular shawarma ($11) fills the plate with sauteed, marinated slices of chicken or beef, tahini sauce, and fries or rice.
On the Italian side, we passed on the seven varieties of small and large pizzas ($6.50 to $12) in favor of the menu headliner, the aforementioned brachioli ($15.50). It's a scrumptious combination of tender, medium-rare baked tenderloin wrapped around ham and melted cheese and served in a lovely red wine sauce, with a large helping of whole cooked mushrooms, spicy green beans, and a pickle. I've never eaten anything quite like it; the taste lingers still. And spaghetti lovers won't soon forget The Beirut special with meat sauce, or the meatball spaghetti, $9 each.
If you're not completed sated by meal's end, try the heavenly sweet baklava and bird nests for $1 each, the $1.75 rice pudding, or the ice cream treats, all priced in the $1 to $4 range.
Contact Bill of Fare at fare@ theblade.com.
First Published February 6, 2004, 12:46 p.m.
