For a meal that feels like home

We decided to visit a restaurant that has been a fixture in Nicosia’s dining scene since at least the 90s that is widely regarded as a pillar of Levantine cuisine in Cyprus. Over the years, it has racked up numerous awards, including a spot on the WiZ 50 Best Restaurants 2024 list.

I’m talking, of course, about the Syrian Club in Nicosia.

As we entered, we paused at a ‘please wait to be seated’ sign for all of two seconds before a tall, well-dressed maître d’ approached. We duly informed him that we were walk-ins looking for a table for two, and he swiftly led us to seats.

We found ourselves in front of a large, charmingly kitschy fountain – a dolphin perched on its fluke, water pouring from its mouth, bathed in soft lighting. Combined with the abundance of greenery (not all of it real), the scene gave off an oasis-like atmosphere.

No sooner had we sat down and received our menus – an extensive selection – than the first of the evening’s surprises arrived. “Let’s order the baba ganoush!” my dining companion chirped. “Baba ganoush? The dish with aubergine? The vegetable you’ve repeatedly sworn you hate?” I asked. “It’s the only place on the island that gets it right,” she retorted.

Well then – first appetizer secured. We rounded it out with kibbeh (lamb-stuffed croquettes) and makanek (spiced Levantine sausages). For the mains, I chose freekeh bil lahm – a dish of smoky green durum wheat topped with lamb – while my companion opted for farrouj meshwi, grilled garlic chicken.

Almost as soon as we had decided, the maître d’ (of all people) reappeared as if summoned by telepathy, and asked us if we were ready to order. I listed off our order, and after each dish, he responded with a brisk “yes,” barely giving me time to pause before disappearing just as swiftly.

Before our appetizers even arrived, a waiter placed two bowls of complimentary lentil soup before us – a warm, well-seasoned delight, portioned just right to awaken the appetite.

Then came surprise number two.

As the appetizers were being set down, one item on the serving tray immediately caught my eye: a raw vegetable cornucopia – an entire head of lettuce, bell peppers, chilies and cherry tomatoes –accompanied by a bowl of pita bread. No explanation was offered.

Our slight bemusement left unaddressed, we diligently tucked into the food.

The makanek sausages were subtly and expertly spiced – so much so that we found ourselves playing a guessing game with the flavours. “Clove powder?” my companion wondered. “Cardamom, maybe?” I ventured.

The sausages, of course, remained silent, revealing none of their secrets.

Next up, the lamb-stuffed croquettes. “A little dry,” my dining companion noted.

“Right,” I replied, my mind drifting to the dozen or so dips available on the menu – each designed for dishes like this – that we had opted not to order. The lamb mince had a deep, earthy, gamey flavour, interwoven with finely diced onion and warm spices. This was real lamb, and it tasted like it.

Then, the baba ganoush. No exaggeration – it might genuinely be the only place on the island that gets it right. Here, the aubergine is roasted while the other vegetables remain raw, straddling the line between a salad and a dip. The result? Smoky, velvety, and fresh.

Halfway through the appetizers, the mains made their entrance.

I eyed the metal tagine before me with anticipation, knowing it held my lamb dish. The waiter set it down, lifted the lid, and revealed… a freshly prepared, still-steaming chicken leg quarter.

Here comes the final surprise.

This was not what I ordered.

I considered flagging the mistake, maybe even making a fuss, before ultimately deciding – why bother? Yes, it was a mix-up, but I didn’t feel particularly attached to the protein. In fact, if I’m honest, it was the durum wheat I was most excited about. And what a dish it turned out to be.

Though unlisted on the menu, it arrived adorned with cashews and pistachios, a welcome surprise. Every forkful was an invitation to keep going – chewy wheat, crunchy nuts, perfectly cooked chicken – all coming together in a festival of unforgettable flavours. Lamb be damned.

With the meal complete, our stomachs stretched to their limits and still a considerable portion of food left untouched, I debated how best to wrap up the experience: a strong, cardamom-laced coffee or a bowl of mahalabia (milk pudding). I settled on the coffee.

As we lingered, the maître d’ rematerialised and placed two bowls of mahalabia in front of us.

“On the house,” he said. When I went to pay, I noticed the coffee had also been comped.

And that’s when it clicked. Dining at the Syrian Club isn’t just about being a patron, a guest, or even a diner. It’s about something deeper. It feels like being part of an extended family, sitting down for a meal at home.

VITAL STATISTICS

SPECIALTY Syrian and Levantine cuisine

WHERE Syrian Club, Vasilissis Amalias 17, Nicosia

WHEN Daily 12-11pm

CONTACT 22 776246

HOW MUCH €3 – €5 for appetizers, €4 for salads, €8 – €14 for mains