ARAB QUARTER
Canada’s next crop and livestock opportunities may already be flying off store shelves on Toronto’s Lawrence Avenue.
By Steven Biggs
Contributing Editor, Country Guide Magazine
November 2008
SIX LANES OF
TRAFFIC stream between low-rise strip malls as I make my way along
Lawrence Avenue. I stop for a red light at a busy intersection, and then
at another, and then I brake for a third before I realize there isn’t a
crossroad here.
This light
is new since my last visit. And it’s a good clue to what’s going on.
Hovic
Boyadjian, one of the owners of Arz Fine Foods, later smiles as he tells
me how his request for the stoplight took only three years, half the
time it often takes to get a new light in this city. With the constant
flow of cars turning into the store’s small parking lot, and ample
pedestrian traffic braving the six lanes of traffic, the stoplight made
sense.
More and
more shoppers, whatever their ethnic background, are coming here to buy
Arab foods. In fact, many are betting that, in a Canada that has already
embraced Mexican and Italian and Asian foods, the next big trend to go
mainstream will be Arabic.
The traffic seems to prove it. Boyadjian’s bustling store is one of many
along a short stretch of Lawrence Avenue in Toronto that has been coined
the Arab Quarter. This strip is home to a wide array of shops and
restaurants serving the Arabic community — a
bazaar of grocery stores, meat markets, restaurants and shops.
Wexford is
the official name for this neighbourhood, but don’t let the name deceive
you. This English-sounding neighbourhood has a multi-ethnic face. This
is a food mecca that reflects the diversity of the new Canada. It may be
as perfect a reflection of Canada
as you can find. If it is, it can tell us a lot about what is shaping
Canadian food customs — and potentially influencing what we grow.
Scarborough meets the Middle East
My first stop is at Arz Fine Foods, “The essence of Mediterranean
gourmet.” While the three brothers who run it, Armand, Jack, and Hovic
Boyadjian, are Lebanese-Armenian,
the store reaches out to a far broader demographic. Today the store is
buzzing with people as Armand Boyadjian shows me some of their specialty
items. The aisle with
olive oils features many that the Boyadjian brothers have sourced
themselves. In-house coffee blends remind Arabs and Lebanese customers
of home, and behind glass showcases, there are European-style pastries
in an eye-catching assortment of shapes and colours. The selection is no
surprise, considering brothers Jack and Armand are also French-trained
pastry chefs.
On the
adjoining restaurant patio, with the din of Lawrence Avenue traffic in
the background, Armand Boyadjian explains to me that I’m eating roasted
eggplant cooked with chickpeas and tomatoes; zucchini stuffed with meat,
onions, and garlic; and a cheese-filled, syrup-covered pastry known as
knafe. It’s all very delicious.
Down the road from Arz in a long, 1970s-style strip mall, I next visit Emad Bahloul, owner of Nasib’s Shawarma and Falafel restaurant. It’s a quiet moment in the mid-afternoon and Bahloul is sitting with his wife and three kids at one of the tables. I see a picture of Jerusalem and a map of Palestine on the wall and recall him telling me over the phone that he is Palestinian.
Being the month of Ramadan, when Muslims fast from sunrise to sundown, I
ask if his lunch hour has slowed down. Shaking his head, he explains
that he stays busy serving
customers of all backgrounds from nearby businesses. Bahloul tells me
how he marinates his meat, that he makes his own pickles and sauces, and
even makes his own falafel blend. I go behind the counter to watch as he
shaves meat from the rotisserie for my shawarma sandwich. The chicken
has cooked on there slowly all day, he explains. Nestling the meat into
a pita bread, he steers me to the garnish bar where he dresses the
sandwich with pickled turnip, tahini, garlic sauce, tabouleh (a mix of
parsley, tomato, onion, and bulgur wheat) — and a splash of hot sauce.
As customers start to roll in, I take a seat to taste my sandwich. I
hear Bahloul yell, “Hi Peter” to one customer, then chat in Arabic to
the next. The shawarma sandwich is moist and flavourful.
Returning
to the truck, I am struck by the high-end cars in the parking lot —
despite the
weathered look of the plaza. There is something happening here. This is
an active hub
attracting a diverse clientele.
Nearby at
Hassan and Bros. Meat Market, Middle-Eastern music plays overhead as I
scan the shelves, waiting for Hassan Seblani to finish cutting meat
behind the counter. Although this is a butcher shop, there are large
jars of hot peppers and pickles skirting the floor, and shelves with
imported goods such as clarified butter, hummus, and even Arabic coffee
sets. What really catches my eye is the meat; there are large pieces
of lamb — and they look fresh, not shrink-wrapped and frozen like the
imported supermarket fare.
Seblani caters to a largely Syrian and Lebanese clientele, although
almost half of his customers are non-Arabic, coming from other Asian
communities — mainly Indian, Pakistani, and Afghani — but with a good
sprinkling of white, Canadian-born customers as well. I am struck by the
fact that here is a merchant building a loyal clientele — largely
foreign-born — with locally raised food.
At Lotus Catering and Fine Food, Eid Saleh comes out from behind the
counter to sit at a table with me. His specialty is Egyptian cuisine.
“It has to look good.” His emphasis
on presentation is no surprise given his training with chefs who served
in royal courts.
As we discuss the items on the overhead menu board, I learn that he fills the stuffed pigeon with freke (wheat harvested and dried while green), boils it in broth, and then fries it in clarified butter with liver and pine nuts to make it crispy and flavourful.
My food is ready and Saleh guides me around my plate. The small, crispy
thumbsized
roll is mombar, a flavourful, lightly fried Egyptian rice sausage. Next
are the Egyptian cabbage rolls, then rice-filled grape leaves, and
Egyptian-style falafels made with dried green fava beans.
Canadian ingredients?
The flavours are new to me, yet I can’t help but look at the ingredients
and think how Canadian many of them are: pulses that might come from the
Prairies, grape leaves that could come from Niagara, honey... and even
pigeons. And what about the freke — the green wheat — could it grow here
too?
The common thread, aside from the Middle Eastern proprietors, seems to me that these businesses are stretching ethnic boundaries and bringing in clients from other cultures. “Our community is not a big community,” Boyadjian explains, referring to Canada’s Lebanese population.
“How much pasta would sell if only Italians bought it?” Boyadjian asks.
“You have to introduce your cuisine to others.” This he has done, with
half of his client base coming from outside the Middle Eastern
community.
At Nasib’s
restaurant, Bahloul finds that Canadian-born customers who haven’t eaten
Middle Eastern food sometimes don’t know what to order first. He simply
explains how dishes are prepared, then gives samples. In his experience,
new customers love the food — it’s just a matter of getting them to try
it. Today, only half of Bahloul’s customers are Middle Eastern, a big
difference from 30 years ago when the original owner of the
restaurant catered to a mainly Middle Eastern clientele.
At his meat shop, Seblani caters not only to Arabic customers. Aside
from lamb, he serves people who want halal meat, which is prepared as
prescribed by Muslim law. At Lotus, Saleh says that while his customer
base is largely Middle Eastern, he gets a wide spectrum of customers
including people with European, Jewish, and Asian backgrounds.
It’s just good business
When it comes to guessing what foods might go mainstream in Canada,
Boyadjian
suggests the falafel, which is nutritious, convenient — and made with
pulses that can be grown in Canada. Seblani thinks kafta, kebabs made
with ground beef and lamb, parsley, onions, and spices is a food that
could become mainstream. It is flavourful and easy to prepare on a
barbecue. Interestingly, Bahloul thinks that based on the reaction he
gets to his shawarma from non-Arab customers, that it’s already well on
its way to becoming mainstream.
As we discuss foods that might go mainstream, Boyadjian points out that
many Middle Eastern staples such as red lentils, fava beans, and
chickpeas are grown in Canada, but farmers and suppliers don’t reach out
to him. He must find his supplies, often importing them.
Wheat bulgur, zucchini, and eggplant are other popular ingredients that
can be grown in Canada too. Saleh notes that fava beans — a favourite in
Egyptian cuisine — have potential, as they are so nutritious and
versatile. What’s missing? He hopes that farmers here grow more white
eggplant and the small, light-coloured zucchini (cousa) found throughout
the Middle East.
To Saleh, good business is simple: “If it’s good, they return.” He grows
his business mainly through word of mouth. He goes on to say, “You have
to know what people want.”
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