2019-10-01_Bon_Appetit_UserUpload.Net

48 – OCTOBER 2019 PHOTOGRAPH BY ELIZABETH CECIL

Away – The Road to the Hot 10

Youssef Akhtarini Fled

Syria. His Baklava Recipe

Came With Him

OUSSEF AKHTARINI CAN’T SIT STILL. During our
interview at Aleppo Sweets, his new Syrian restaurant
and bakery in Providence, he gets up every 15 minutes.
To rearrange baklava in the pastry case. To drizzle
syrup over mabrooma, haystack-like mounds of shred-
ded phyllo. To sip one of the 20 (yes, you read that right) cups
of tea he averages a day.
It’s an energy born of necessity: The shop is perpetually
packed, serving not just those incredible pastries but a full
menu of savory Syrian dishes—tightly stuffed grape leaves,
chicken kebabs blackened on the grill, herb-flecked spheres
of falafel. But it’s also the result of what Akhtarini has been
through to get here. A refugee from Aleppo, he once ducked for
cover each time he went outside. Now he’s making baklava that
crackles like a potato chip.
His bakery—one of 50 nominees for our list of America’s best
new restaurants (bonappetit.com/50nominees)—already has
a steady slate of regulars, including many Syrian Americans.
At times you can hear Arabic spoken more frequently than
English. “I used to think you can’t get baklava like this outside
of Aleppo,” says Nora Barre, a customer who moved to the U.S.
from Aleppo as a child. For Akhtarini, life without this kind of
baklava would have been unimaginable.
Born and raised in Aleppo—known as the food capital of
Syria and home to every cook’s favorite chile flake—Akhtarini
landed a job as a trainee at the famous bakery Diab by age 15.
With his brothers he opened a few successful bakeries, where
he was known for pistachio fingers—rich nut-coated rolls of
phyllo—and lady’s bracelets (similar idea, different shape).

In 2012 the violent conflict following

the civilian uprising against President

Bashar al-Assad spilled over into the lives

of everyday Syrians, including Akhtarini.

A year later he, his wife, Reem, and their

six children fled Syria for Turkey. After

three years, they sought asylum in the

U.S., eventually landing in Providence.

IN HIS NEW hometown, Akhtarini’s first

instinct was to find the local mosque. His

second was to make baklava. So he took

out his rolling pin—one of the few things

he brought from Turkey—and started to

layer phyllo, cook down a lemon-kissed

syrup, and chop walnuts. He invited peo-

ple he had met at the mosque and volun-

teers at the Dorcas International Institute,

the nonprofit that helped resettle the

Akhtarini family in Rhode Island, and he

and Reem fed them buttery sweets.

With no credit history and not enough

money saved up, he knew he couldn’t

afford to open a restaurant. So he rented

a commissary space in a local pizza shop,

where he’d come at either 5 a.m. or after

midnight to make baklava and pistachio

fingers to take to a nearby farmers’ mar-

ket. They almost always sold out.

In 2018 a friend stepped in. Sandy Mar-

tin, a Dorcas International volunteer, and

her husband, Victor Pereira, a real estate

agent, bought a building on a quiet tree-

lined block and offered the ground floor

to Akhtarini. With local interior designer

Kyla Coburn, they helped Akhtarini make

the space look like a Syrian home: intri-

cately patterned windows, a small foun-

tain, copper teapots, and a handmade

Syrian backgammon board (a lot of it is

from Etsy, Martin says with a laugh).

Akhtarini set about sourcing ingredients

and hiring other Syrian refugees.

“It was a lot of pressure,” Akhtarini

says, speaking through a translator, his

friend Abdullah Kanaan. “Food is the

identity of Syrian people. I wanted to give

the best face to everybody here—not just

me but the people working in the back.”

Akhtarini still has relatives in Aleppo,

though he has no desire to move back. He

has started anew, both with the restau-

rant and in Providence. He and Reem

have a new group of friends. The children

have settled into school.

Making sweets is one of the few activities

that reminds him of being home in Aleppo.

“I take videos and send them to my family

on WhatsApp,” Akhtarini says. “It makes

me feel that everything is okay.”

y WHALEPPO AT MAKES

SWEETS FEEL

LIKE HOME

Backgammon,

Akhtarini’s favorite

childhood game

A stone fountain

to symbolize serenity

Mosaic windows,

common in

the Middle East

14

by PRIYA KRISHNA