A Culinary Journey Through Tradition & Flavour

Published on

Written by: Samer

Samer has worked at the Spicery for many years. Originally from Lebanon, Samer recently took an opportunity to go home for a couple of weeks then came back to share some wonderful recipes with us

For a couple of weeks of April to May 2025, when Lebanon is arguably at its most beautiful, I finally made it back to visit my family for the first time since July 2022. As my partner was travelling with me, I waited for a moment of relative calm to finally bring her to this wild, lovable, sometimes exhausting country I call home. When we landed in Beirut, our first stop was Mhanna in Jal El Dib, a classic Lebanese restaurant where the mezze is always fresh and the Almaza beer is always cold. We kept it light, ordering a spread of hummus, hindbeh (dandelion greens, spinach with topped caramelized onions), moutabal (a smoky aubergine dip blended with tahini, garlic, and lemon, often mistaken for baba ghanouj, which is actually chunkier and tahini free), halloumi with za’atar, vine leaves, spinach with sumac pastries, and freshly baked flatbread. The fattoush was tangy and crisp, and the tomatoes with toum (fluffy Lebanese garlic sauce) had that punchy garlic hit that Lebanese food does so well.

The next day, we headed north to Batroun, a charming coastal city known for its Phoenician wall and famous lemonade. We wandered the old cobbled streets before settling down at Ahwet Zeitouna. The mezzes came flowing again, this time with kibbeh bi laban (spiced deep fried meat and bulgur meatballs, in a warm, tangy yogurt sauce), fattet kibbeh (deep fried kibbeh, yogurt, and crispy flatbread with a drizzle of browned butter), shankleesh (a fermented cheese rolled in za’atar and served with diced tomatoes, onions, olives and lots of olive oil), mouhammara (a rich, smoky-red dip made of roasted red peppers, walnuts, and pomegranate molasses), and more vine leaves. Every dish felt homemade, like it came straight from someone’s teta’s kitchen (teta is lebanese for grandma).

Back in Tripoli, my hometown, we paid a visit to the bustling old souk and stopped by my favourite breakfast spot, Al Dannoun. Their hummus topped with minced meat and pine nuts is unbeatable, and the lahm bi ajeen (literally meaning meat on bread) was served hot and crisp, balanced with a plate of pickles on the side.

No trip is complete without a stop at Kasr El Helou (Hallab), Lebanon’s famed dessert palace. We were lucky enough to get a behind-the-scenes look at their kitchen, where the smell of syrupy pastries and orange blossom water filled the air. We tried a decadent mix, baklava, knefeh with kashta (a warm, gooey semolina and cheese dessert topped with clotted cream and drenched in syrup), mafroukeh pistachio (a semolina based dessert layered with creamy kashta and crushed pistachios), halewet el jeben (soft, sweet cheese rolls filled with rose scented cream and dusted with powdered sugar), and the iconic znoud el sit (golden, crispy pastry cigars stuffed with cream and soaked in syrup, their name literally meaning “the arms of the lady.”).

Assortment of baklavas, some with pistachios, some with cashews, others walnuts. The circular ones are made from vermicelli dough, and the middle is made with Semolina dough

On our final day, we hit the streets for some casual eats, a bowl of mougrabieh (made with pearl-like semolina couscous, slow cooked chickpeas, spiced with caraway and cinnamon), a juicy chicken shawarma wrapped with toum, pickles, and fries, and of course, some crunchy falafel.

There’s so much to explore in Lebanon, but honestly, the food alone is reason enough to come. Whether you’re eating at a high-end restaurant or grabbing a wrap from a street vendor, every bite is rooted in culture, memory, and spice.