The Wisdom of Ali El Sayed

Eating is not as simple as it to be. Just a few short years ago most of us Americans were blissfully unaware of the story behind our food – slowly we’re beginning to understand how naive we have been. In the industrialized West (and East), food is produced for profit but not necessarily for healthy consumption. The path our food takes – from plant or animal to plate – has become mired in industrial confusion. Most all of our food is delivered to us courtesy of fossil fuels, genetic modification and corporate agro-businesses who determine how major producers grow their products; none of which has to do with good eating. Meanwhile, a fewer number of people actually cultivate the food we all need to sustain ourselves – and our steady population expansion – which decreases diversity and increases the risk of disease, famine and generally unhealthy food choices. However, journalists, scholars, academics and chefs like Michael Pollan, Barbara Kingsolver, Morris Berman and Alice Waters finally have the average person at least questioning what it is they eat. For answers, more and more people are turning to their local farm markets, organic food stores and local chefs.

Recently, while roving New York City’s boroughs in search of food and drink, I met a man whose wisdoms and philosophies personally addressed our sad eating circumstances. His name is Ali El Sayed, owner/cook/sage of the humbly titled Kabab Café in Astoria. My friend and guide, a fellow gourmand, brought us on a good night. The tiny mosaic decorated Egyptian diner (twelve seats) bordered by bodegas, a hookah lounge and his brother’s restaurant, was empty. At times there can be a wait. Soon Ali entered, asked if we were hungry, and then told us everything he would cook for us. No menu – no prices, just food. Did we eat meat, fish or vegetable he wanted to know? Before any conclusive decision was made, Ali set before us small platters with various spices and herbs and a tiny bowl of peppers, lemon juice and oil. Stove hot falafel followed with porous humus and evergreen baba ganouj.

Ali El Sayed told us to drink some wine and enjoy, food is for savoring, not devouring! (He could tell we were hungry.) The simple Middle Eastern spices primed our palates and related us to the future courses. I began to take mental notes as Ali continued to feed and enlighten. It may have been the Malbec, but food wisdoms seemed to pour from the man like spices from his tins! The more he spoke, the more I understood the culture of food Ali embodies and expresses. His poignant lessons made sense in this our world of senseless eating.

Ali first said food should be enjoyed, not gobbled up; basically summarizing the entire Slow Food movement. Eating slowly evokes the mind along with the senses. Work was put into the food you are eating. Care was taken in the cultivation, processing, and preparation of your dish. Savor the flavors and textures. Recognize the experience for what it is: time spent nourishing your body and mind. If you’re patient you’ll discover fulfillment for more than merely for your hunger.

Ali said patience will be rewarded. When you live in the city, long lines may be a way of life. Instead of dwelling on the wait, try slowing down and enjoying the things around you. If it’s good food you’re waiting for, it’s worth it! At Kabab Café, Ali is your host, waiter, chef and friend: a busy man considering you are not the only one dining. A mixed plate will soon be out with hot round bread and warming wine for you to prime with while he begins a desert and critiques the history of Middle Eastern food in the US. We have all become accustomed to immediate gratification, which creates a paradox when it comes to good eating. A short (or long) wait while the food is being prepared is an indication of care and love in the kitchen. In the case of Ali, who prepares the food literally inches from your table, one is actually able to experience this passionate process. Quick food may pacify your impatience, but it will not nourish like a paced and respected dining experience.

Ali said food should be flavorful. If not, why eat? To enjoy a meal you may have had to patiently wait for, it must taste good. Food grown or purchased fresh locally generally tastes best and proves to be the healthiest for your body – and soul, Ali would argue. As it turns out, local food also costs less because of reduced transportation and storage times and builds the local community and economy. The Kabab Café is definitely out of the way from the train line and a little walking is in order. You may find the same thing in your neighborhood. Maybe the best grocer, farm market or chef is not on your block or commute. Taking the time to find restaurants and stores which aspire to stock and serve regional fare will connect you to your food, community and develop your food culture.

Ali said Food connects us with our past. Queens is as a culturally diverse place as any on earth. The United States as a whole is a conglomerate of the world’s finest peoples. Originally from Egypt, Ali has gifted Astoria and New York City with rare traditional Alexandrian cuisine. His cooking is indelible to his former and current cultural residence. All of today’s foods and cuisines have storied histories; to partake is to acknowledge their successes. Our multiplicity of foods represents our varied cultural contributors better than any census. Digesting a new cuisine mentally and physically is an investigation into what we are as a people.

Ali said food should be shared. Dining in the tiny Kabab Café felt like Ali had welcomed us into his home. He personally showed us how he prepared his lamb cheeks, liver and sweetbreads. He spread his spices before us and showed our minds how to understand his cooking. Medium size dishes were set in the middle of the table and we shared each new carefully plated entrée. To participate with another person’s food culture is to share; just as we diners were eating from the same bowls and boards. The culinary experience combined teaching with learning, cooking with eating, talking with drinking and patience with reward. And as any chef knows, the most rewarding part of cooking is serving.