Illustration by Sammy Gecsoyler/ Canva

Correcting the record: the diaspora restaurants reclaiming their culinary identity

After years of labelling themselves after wider known cuisines, Syrian and Bangladeshi-owned food businesses are embracing their roots

Walking down Willesden Green Lane in West London, the smell of Syrian fried chicken from outside the Best Broasted – a new and small restaurant – makes me feel at home. The atmosphere is calm on a weeknight. The restaurant is nearly identical to many eateries in I frequented in Damascus. The inescapable green decorations and the rapid Arabic overheard from the tables next to me are comfortingly familiar.

My visit to the Best Broasted formed part of my quest to find authentic Syrian food in London, a process that has not been straightforward. While there are a few Levantine and Middle Eastern restaurants run by Syrians in London, they are tricky to find as most call themselves Lebanese. While both cuisines overlap and have many similar dishes, there are distinct differences. For that reason, it’s not easy to define Syrian cuisine. 

While a love of rustic aromas and an appreciation for cooked yogurt is common throughout, each part of Syria has a regional identity that is reflected in its cuisine. Aleppo’s dishes, for example, are influenced by its proximity to Turkey, as well as its vibrant Armenian population. Kebab Karaz, a lamb stew dish cooked with cherries, is one of its most signature dishes, especially among Armenian and Jewish Syrians. It is not commonly cooked by other cities. Wishna, St. Lucie cherries, are used in the dish to give a sweet-and-sour flavour.

Syrian restaurants are not the first to advertise themselves as belonging to a well-established, “popular” cuisine. The phenomenon is widespread due to the financial challenges of opening a restaurant; the need to make a living takes precedence over cultural representation. “If you look at it from the perspective of the entrepreneur, in many cases they may be interested not necessarily in representing the cuisine of a particular region or group to the outside world, but more in making a livelihood and getting by and providing food for their own family,” says Jakob Klein, a food anthropologist at SOAS.  

Particular migrant groups come to occupy certain kinds of niches in a wider food economy, “which may or may not have very much to do with food that they may be eating at home, or their own culinary backgrounds,” he adds. “Why do we make this assumption, in Britain or the United States, that people from a particular ethnicity or national background should be setting up restaurants representing that particular country?” 

According to Klein, the concept of a knowledgeable “foodie” has transformed from only focusing on famous European cuisines (like French or Italian) to including a broad familiarity of global cuisines and their regional intricacies. In this context, reclaiming underrated cuisines can become a possibility, but is not without its challenges. For Syrian restaurateurs, it is still easier to pass off as ‘Lebanese’ because the cuisine has already been popular for decades in big cities like London and New York.  

Alienating customers who may not know anything about Syria beyond news headlines, the civil war and resulting refugee crisis is a risk that heavily impacts their decisions. However, Syrian food is making a name for itself due to the efforts of Syrian refugees and other newcomers who take pride in their food and their roots. A few restaurants opened in the last few years by Syrian refugees, like Imad’s Syrian Kitchen and The Best Broasted. These restaurants have challenged stereotypes about the country and its culture by embracing Syrian cuisine, showing it is deserving of its own place on the table.  

The Best Broasted is run and owned by Syrians. The founder, Amer Kawarit, embraced the place’s Syrian identity and took on a challenge by focusing on a niche Syrian dish, broasted chicken. The fried chicken is crunchy, full of flavour and a perfect gateway for people to learn more about Syrian food. 

“I missed the Syrian food. Not just because of the food itself, but, with every bite you take, it brings you tons of memories of being with friends or family,” Kawarit says. “This is the food we used to eat years ago before anything happened.” To him, cooking and eating Syrian food is linked to memory and the act of remembering Syria. This is why he didn’t call the Best Broasted a Lebanese restaurant. To him, reclaiming the cuisine is reclaiming Syrian identity away from current narratives that frame it only as a conflict zone. 

“We have a huge cuisine; we have one hundred items in this menu and I’m not even touching five percent of actual Syrian cuisine. This is one element of the culture that you really want to let other people know about,” says Kawarit. “When it first opened, we had amazing reviews from Syrian people. They would say, ‘This is it. This is the Syrian Broasted. This is the Syrian Shawarma. Finally, we have this,’” says Kawarit.  

Most of The Best Broasted’s chefs are Syrian, which has helped bring the unique Syrian flavour alive. Although they don’t exclusively recruit Syrian refugees, Kawarit explains that refugees in the UK have significant barriers to entering the work market. Working at The Best Broasted can help them to be introduced to the Syrian community while making a living. Being surrounded by a strong community presence away from home is crucial to how Kawarit views The Best Broasted, which acts as a much-needed community space. 

The rise of curry houses in London follows a similarly complex path in terms of accurate naming of cuisines and identity. According to Dina Begum, a food writer who has written extensively on Bangladeshi cuisine, Bangladeshi Lascars (sailors from what is now modern-day Bangladesh) came to England through the East India Company. As Bangladesh was part of India at the time, the cafés became known as ‘Indian’. After Bangladeshi independence in 1971, a second wave of immigrants came to the UK to make a living. Many moved to East London, with Brick Lane becoming a focal point for the Bangladeshi community. The area has one of the highest concentration of Bangladeshis in the UK. 

Despite Bangladesh becoming an independent country in 1971, Bangladeshi restaurants in the UK were still considered Indian. “The transition didn’t happen. I think mainly because it’s been known as Indian cuisine. It is frustrating not to see that development or kind of natural progression,” says Begum. But she says it’s understandable as people were focused on making a living, rather than establishing themselves as a symbol of Bangladeshi culture. “It’s more about survival than making a name for themselves,” she adds.  

Begum has spent years writing about Bangladeshi food and sharing recipes in English, showcasing the variety of Bangladeshi home cooking. Her book, Brick Lane Cookbook, chronicles the culinary history of Brick Lane and its Bangladeshi community which thrived in the area. “My mission is to highlight the difference to Indian cuisine and say: it’s not Indian cuisine, it’s Bangladeshi cuisine. I want to pay homage to those people who have come here for years, who have family members that haven’t been celebrated on their own as Bangladeshi.”   

Bangladeshi food, Begum says, has approximately eight different regional cuisines, but one of the main staples, due to its location, is fish and rice. “It has lots of vegetarian dishes, and then you’ll have fish curries. There’s no way that you can put it all under the same label.” Fried fish and fermented fish are popular as well, but it varies across the country. For instance, the southern part of Bangladesh has influences from Southeast Asia such as tamarind and coconut. 

Other ingredients particular to Bangladesh include shatkora, a citrus fruit used for cooking, and naga chilli – a pepper known for its incredible heat. These dishes and the regional variety of the cuisine are not present in Brick Lane’s curry houses, Begum says, which serve a cuisine of their own that’s not Indian or Bangladeshi, but caters to a western palette. But change is coming. Begum says Bangladeshi food is being reclaimed by younger generations and women.  

“The real kind of traditional home cooking, which is mostly done by women, doesn’t translate onto restaurant menus,” she says. Therefore, traditional home cooking has been hidden away for a long time. Social media has allowed Bangladeshi cuisine to redefine itself. Younger generations of women are sharing recipes or cooking, and even just posting pictures of dishes their mothers or grandmothers have cooked, which has slowly led to increased awareness. Traditional Bangladeshi food is also being popularised by small catering businesses through Instagram. 

“There are blooming businesses run by Bangladeshi women for Bangladeshi women, but they are also catering for events and corporate companies,” says Begum. These microbusinesses give women the opportunity to earn money in a flexible way that fits around their lifestyle. They also help demonstrate the diversity of Bangladeshi cuisine, slowly breaking it out of the box that it’s been confined to in the UK.  

“I do feel, in terms of the general public, that people are more interested in regional cuisines and finding differences. That’s not only within a particular cuisine, but it also includes Indian cuisine, Middle Eastern and southeast Asian food,” says Begum. Like Bangladeshi food is now being reclaimed, Syrian food is becoming an established entity in the UK by the growing Syrian diaspora. 

After the end of my interview with Kawarit, he invites me to stay for a heavy meal of chicken broasted, broasted fries and shawarma, and tells me about the opening of the new branch in Shepherd’s Bush. The second restaurant will have even more dishes, because the new location has a bigger kitchen. The chefs will be able to cook more elaborate Syrian dishes. Although it was a risk to go against the usual path for Middle Eastern restaurants in London, it is paying off for Kawarit. Perhaps fellow restaurateurs will feel more confident in breaking out of the cuisine hierarchy. As Kawarit comment, The Best Broasted is gaining more traction among non-Arabs, bringing a fresh perspective on Syria beyond news headlines.  

Reclaiming a cuisine, although a slow process, is not only about demonstrating the variety and diversity of the country. It is also a way that cultural traditions can survive, evolve and meet different audiences. The Best Broasted is not as crowded as when I arrived, but the table across from me has just gotten their food and are sharing some of the plates. This is not only about reclaiming cuisine; it is about culture. 

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