WHEN you get two people recommending somewhere, it’s definitely worth investigating, but when you get half a dozen you know it’s time to take a look. So it was with Pomegranate, a very simple Middle Eastern café-style restaurant at the top of Leith Walk, which has been getting rave reviews from friends and colleagues alike, especially those who are vegetarians.
On closer inspection, it turns out that Pomegranate is an offshoot of Hanam’s, which is up by the castle and owned by Jamal Ahmed, a perpetually sunny Kurdish emigré from northern Iraq, and one of the capital’s more interesting dining options. The sequel is rarely as good as the original, but this is one of those rare exceptions, with Ahmed picking a fast-food mezze (small dishes) option that fits perfectly with the city-centre location – opposite a nightclub, theatre and cinema (in fact the tagline on the wall outside is ‘Pomegranate: Middle Eastern street food and shisha bar’).
At first, there’s not much to suggest that the family-run Pomegranate is anything other than yet another interesting addition to a vibrant eating-out enclave that includes the second Café Marlayne and the latest incarnation of Khushi’s. Although its traditional bright walls make it feel more stark than Hanam’s, its Middle Eastern details – the lanterns are straight out of a Marrakech souk and there’s a shisha pipe lying ready for action in the corner – lend the same air of easy authenticity possessed by the mothership.
The menu, too, is an eclectic mix of staple dishes collected from every corner of the Middle East, and reflects the same decent value you get with Hanam’s. There’s Moroccan-style cous cous, dolma from Turkey and Lebanese fatoush salad, plus offerings from all points in between, while the number of options for vegetarians is huge. Helpfully, Pomegranate is also unlicensed, which helps keep the cost down – and there’s a small supermarket just up the hill, so BYOB options are near at hand.
With its plastic tablecloths, bright lights and exceptionally cheery service from Ahmed’s daughter, the place reminds me of Chop Chop in its early days (which is a good thing). There’s an informal air to the place, and families are very welcome – we sat next to a young couple whose two-year-old munched contentedly on hummus and then mango sorbet while they chatted to grandpa. But then mezze is made for easy and informal eating, with the sharing that is integral to the cuisine making for a communal experience.
With that in mind, Bea and I decided to start with four mezze, choosing the kubba halab (traditionally seasoned minced lamb, mixed with sultanas, encased in crushed rice and served with cucumber yoghurt), soujuk (spicy Lebanese sausages sautéed in tomato, green pepper, garlic and chilli), lamb samboussek (Lebanese pastry triangles filled with spicy minced lamb and onions) and falafel (fried chickpea balls, which came with hummus on the side).
Having spent some time in the Middle East when younger, I recognised all of these as traditional dishes and knew pretty much what to expect from each of them. The first three were solid, with the accompanying basket of super-soft unleavened bread perfect for mopping up the pungent stew of peppers, garlic and chilli left behind after we had fished out the cubes of surprisingly unspicy soujuk sausage. The one reservation was the falafel, which, like that at Hanam’s, was dry and brittle and wasn’t much enlivened by a small bowl of pretty stodgy hummus.
Suitably happy with what were effectively our starters, we moved on to the main courses, virtually all of which (except for the vegetarian options) were based around chicken or lamb. As neither of us fancied the chicken options, we both went for lamb, Bea going for the shawarma platter (marinated shards of lamb served on rice) while I opted for the qozy lamb (braised lamb on the bone) with a side helping of tapsi (aubergines, green peppers and sliced potatoes in a spiced tomato sauce).
Bea definitely made the better choice this time, with a dish comprising subtlely flavoured small chunks of meat when compared to my lamb, which came with the stringy texture of a particularly well-cooked lamb shank but with a surprisingly strong flavour. The tapsi, however, transformed what was a pretty dry dish into something more akin to spicy comfort food, and another bout of happy mopping-up with the naan-style unleavened bread ensued. Again, these were two solidly produced traditional dishes.
We decided to round off by trying a smorgasbord of the puddings on offer, picking up some baklava, cupcakes crammed with Turkish delight and rosewater sorbet and ice-cream. The huge helping of rosewater ice-cream was glorious, with a creamy, silky texture and nicely contoured taste that was in complete contrast to an insipid and curiously cloying sorbet. The slice of baklava (filo pastries crammed with pistachios and syrup, found throughout the Middle East) was fine but I like mine oozing with syrup rather than this more manicured version, while the cupcake was a new one on me but one I’d happily try again.
All in all, this is a good find, and a restaurant to which I’ll undoubtedly return at some stage in the future, particularly if I want to eat out with any vegetarian friends. For us carnivores, it’s not pulling up any trees but comes under the heading of good family neighbourhood restaurants that are well worth supporting. n