The Best Middle Eastern Food in the United States

The hummus arrives first, topped with brisket, alongside salatim and pita still warm from the flame, which is a good sign of what's coming. Galit is a prix-fixe modern Middle Eastern spot on Lincoln Ave, holding a Michelin star, where chef Zach Engel builds a menu that feels personal rather than encyclopedic. The wine list leans into Armenia, Lebanon, and Palestine, so the pairings have something to say.

The mana'eesh come off a dome-shaped saj grill, thin and crisp, topped with za'atar or wrapped around sumac-marinated chicken. Reem's is a counter-service Arab bakery and café in the Mission, bright and casual, with fatayer pastries and mezze rounding out a menu that works equally well for breakfast or lunch. A James Beard nominee and a fixture on the L.A. Times' California restaurant list, it's the kind of neighborhood spot that travels without losing itself.

Named for the chef's grandmother, this Michelin-starred Israeli restaurant in North Miami pulls its menu from hyperlocal ingredients and rotates dishes often enough that running out of something is part of the deal. The chef's counter is where you want to be, watching Middle Eastern flavors get handled with quiet precision. The staff reads the room well enough to steer you through whatever's left, which turns out to be a feature, not a bug.

The Lebanese restaurant in the 15th and 15th neighborhood keeps one of the largest Mediterranean wine and beer lists in the country, with bottles pulled from Lebanon, Morocco, and Greece. It's the kind of casual spot where a meal properly starts with dips and works toward a braised lamb shank. The chef earned a James Beard nomination in 2024, which feels about right for a room that takes traditional Lebanese cooking this seriously.

Braised collards dusted with peanut dukkah tells you everything about where Calliope is coming from: a modern Levantine restaurant in Chattanooga where the chef, who grew up in Amman as the son of a cook, has quietly made Southern ingredients his own. Falafel arrives under preserved mango tahini, lamb andouille crosses over muhammara, and the room feels more cosmopolitan than the address might suggest. The New York Times put it on their Restaurant List in 2025.

The open hearth at the center of this Middle Eastern restaurant burns hot enough that you can feel it from across the room, which is by design. Everything here runs through that fire, from the flatbreads to the meats, and the kitchen's control of it is something to watch. Spreads, vegetables, and grilled proteins arrive in a relaxed progression, and the Middle Eastern wine and spirits list is a serious one. On The Washington Post's 40 best D.C. restaurants.

Persian crispy rice arrives with egg yolks that make sharing a genuine moral dilemma. Kismet is a casual Middle Eastern restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard where seasonal vegetables and bright flavors run the show, and nothing on the table feels heavy. The Michelin Bib Gourmand room draws a Los Feliz crowd that looks like they biked here and also know exactly what they're ordering. The staff matches the energy perfectly.

Hamsa is a modern Levantine restaurant in Rice Village where the pita arrives hot enough to require a short waiting period and the salatim keep coming until the table disappears. It's a sit-down place with a pretty dining room, a leafy patio, and a bakery next door for a cardamom bun on the way out. Lunch here becomes an outing, which your calendar may not have authorized.

Marble cafe tables inside a wine shop looking out at Melrose Market set the scene at Cafe Suliman, a Middle Eastern lunch spot where Pacific Northwest ingredients quietly take over the menu. The toast is famous enough to anchor a meal, and smaller bites like pickled gigante beans and carrot-lentil dip let you graze your way through without committing to a plan. The chef earned a James Beard Emerging Chef semifinalist nod in 2026.

Smashed cucumber on labneh is the opening move, and it sets the tone for this lively family-style Mediterranean and Middle Eastern restaurant from the team behind Emmer & Rye. The table fills fast with kebabs, fire-roasted eggplant, and dipping sauces nobody agrees to share, which is fine because the wine list is thoughtfully organized and keeps the peace. The New York Times put it on their Austin shortlist, and it's a Michelin Selected pick.

The word "post-authentic" painted on the window tells you something about the ambition here before you sit down. This Yemeni restaurant in Bay Ridge fills a brick-and-dark-wood room with families, neighborhood lifers, and northward refugees all tearing into great rounds of rashoosh and heaping plates of lamb. The New York Times put it at number 31 on its 100 best list, and Michelin gave it a Bib Gourmand. Portions are sized for sharing whether you planned to or not.

Pickled vegetables and za'atar-dusted flatbread land on the table before you've even decided anything, which is how Bay Ridge's favorite Middle Eastern restaurant sets its tone. The portions at this warm, family-run spot are engineered for sharing, and the mansaf, braised lamb over fluffy rice in creamy yogurt, is the kind of dish that makes you regret coming alone. It holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand.

Complimentary housemade pita arrives warm at this Lebanese restaurant in Mason, and it sets the tone for everything that follows. The mezza menus run long enough that most tables over-order on appetizers before the kebabs and shawarma ever arrive, which is its own kind of problem to have. The owner has been known to stop at every table with pairing advice, then greet returning guests by name. Come without a hard stop time.

A backyard garden in Fort Greene that fills up fast enough to make you wonder if everyone in Brooklyn got the same text. Miss Ada is a Middle Eastern restaurant built around sharing: hummus crowned with lamb shawarma, charred kofta skewers, market salads, and whipped ricotta with honey that blurs the line between course and dessert. The kitchen is reportedly tiny, though nothing on the table suggests it. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and walk-ins can try their luck at the bar.

Pillowy pita, blistered or fried, arrives alongside hummus and baba ghanoush worth skipping the entree for, though that would be a shame. Bavel is a stylish Middle Eastern restaurant from the team behind Bestia, set in a high-ceilinged Arts District warehouse that smells exactly like somewhere you want to be. The menu draws on Israeli, Moroccan, Turkish, and Egyptian cooking, and the room fills with people who booked ahead and dressed accordingly.

The hummus arrives looking like a still life, crowned with charred and crispy chickpeas, zhoug, and za'atar, and the table hasn't even filled up yet. This wood-fired Middle Eastern restaurant in River North comes from the team behind Indienne, and earns a Michelin Bib Gourmand by loading the table with dips, small plates, and things fresh off the grill. The menu is built for sharing, though everyone will test that theory over the last scoop of house-made ice cream.

A Lebanese restaurant in Fishtown that opens as a bakery and shop before expanding into a full dining room and a generous rear garden. The menu runs from man'oushe and mezze at lunch to grilled whole poussin and kibbeh at dinner, with a tasting spread if the menu feels ambitious. The pita comes warm from the oven, which sounds minor until it arrives and suddenly isn't. A Michelin selected spot.

The ceiling is draped in colorful fabric to conjure a Bedouin tent, and the smell of mesquite smoke handles the rest of the welcome. This sprawling Middle Eastern grill in the southwest suburbs sends out kefta, shish kebab, and lamb on platters sized for a small wedding party, with hummus and rice enough to guarantee leftovers. The New York Times put it on their short list of Chicago's best restaurants right now, which is the kind of thing that's hard to ignore.

The neon sign and picnic tables say 1960s burger stand, and Falafel's Drive-In has been around forever on Stevens Creek. The family behind it kept the corn dogs but quietly built out a Middle Eastern menu before hummus was something people put on a charcuterie board. The falafel pita arrives saucy and packed, finished with tahini and a sweet hot sauce, and the banana shake has a devoted following.

Craft Pita is a counter-service Lebanese spot where you order at the register, which is why the olive oil from the chef's family back in Lebanon feels like a flex. Hummus comes out velvety, the tacos wear a layer of fries like it's perfectly normal, and portions run generous at prices that don't sting. Dessert is stretchy booza, the kind of ice cream you have to negotiate with. Turkish coffee is strong, and so are the Lebanese wines.

Arched doorways, white tablecloths, and filigree pendant lights give this Loyal Heights Middle Eastern restaurant the feel of a neighborhood place that knew exactly what it wanted to be and never wavered. Hummus plates, mezze spreads, kebabs, and family-style platters fill tables that tend to fill early. The hummus topped with lamb and pine nuts has its own cult following, which is saying something in a city that eats a lot of hummus.

The tacos here are pinned with toothpicks and dropped straight into the fryer, which tells you most of what you need to know. This snug taco shop on Ballard Ave serves deep-fried tacos built around Lebanese-spiced beef or herby cauliflower, a family recipe from the chef's grandmother. Soups round out the short menu. Pale pink walls and floral oilcloths set the scene. Esquire named it one of America's best new restaurants in 2025.

Charcoal skewers arrive at the table in steady rotation while a spread of salatim fills every gap in between. This Fishtown skewer shop opened before the Brooklyn outpost, so Philly claims the original. Industrial bones get softened by hanging lanterns and greenery, which makes the whole room feel festive rather than warehouse-cold. The lamb ribs in cola and sour cherry glaze have earned their reputation. The New York Times put it on their restaurant list the year it opened.

Lines form outside before the doors open, which tells you something about this Middle Eastern restaurant in Park Slope. The menu is a deep dive into mezze and grilled meats, with house-made pita arriving hot enough to make the hummus and labneh situation feel urgent. The name means "together" in Arabic, and the room earns it: the energy runs warm and loud, the way a good dinner should.

Hand-carved panels and painted ceilings line this teahouse, a physical gift from Boulder's sister city in Tajikistan, and the interior stops people mid-sentence. The menu wanders from samosas to a buttery rice plov to apple strudel, which is either chaotic or charming depending on your mood, but tea is the real organizing principle, with a selection comprehensive enough to occupy an afternoon without effort.

Strawberry-pink walls and a wood-burning oven set the tone at this casual pizza and Middle Eastern spot in Bonita Springs, which holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand. The menu runs from whipped hummus and za'atar pita to nicely charred pizzas topped with things like tahini dill ranch and brisket bacon, a combination that sounds wrong until it doesn't. A loud playlist and a big patio keep things loose.

A black-painted row house in Dupont with a greenery-draped patio sets the stage for this casual-chic café earning a Michelin Bib Gourmand. Inside, mid-century stools line the bar, exposed brick meets plush seating, and Edison bulbs do their thing without apology. The menu runs contemporary Middle Eastern with European detours, covering brunch through dinner, and the Basque cake dusted with ras el hanout suggests the kitchen knows exactly what it's doing with a cross-cultural wink.

The smell of roasting meat drifts out onto the street before you even find the door. Yafa is a Middle Eastern restaurant tucked into Carmel, where the owner's goodbye sometimes includes a hug, which is either charming or alarming depending on your relationship with hugs. The mezze plate arrives generously loaded, and the kebabs come properly charred. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and locals fill it like they never considered anywhere else.

A corner restaurant on Broadway where the teal-washed dining room and floor-to-ceiling windows make the whole place feel like an exhale. The long counter fills up with regulars who clearly know their way around a Middle Eastern menu, and the off-center bar is quietly good for eating solo. Fresh-baked breads anchor the meal, and the kitchen's way with date syrup and tahini shows a chef who understands how sweetness and richness need each other.

Floral murals cover the dining room walls and custom Arab pop art fills the gaps, all by design: the name translates to "Rima's Home," a tribute to the chef's mother, and the room is meant to feel like one. This is a shareable mezze spot in Duboce Triangle, cheap and cheerful, where the table fills up fast with dips, baked halloumi, and chicken shish tawook while the room gets louder around you.

A Lebanese restaurant on Capitol Park named for the family matriarch, Leila leans into home-cooking warmth rather than white-tablecloth formality. The New York Times called out the Lebanese Sundae among the best dishes eaten across the country in 2024: rose ice cream with orange blossom water hidden under a cloud of fairy floss, the whole thing buried in pistachios, arriving at the table looking like it has somewhere to be.

The open hearth at this Middle Eastern restaurant in East Hollywood runs hot enough that you feel it from your seat, which is either thrilling or a heads-up to dress accordingly. Ori Menashe and Genevieve Gergis (of Bestia fame) built the menu around long-skewer kebabs and wood-fired bread, though the grilled lobster in green harissa suggests the kitchen has range. Getting a reservation requires patience, or luck, or both.

The rooftop of the Hoxton Hotel in Williamsburg, with the Manhattan skyline doing its thing at sunset, is a solid place to eat skewers. This is Michael Solomonov's skewer house, and the format is pleasantly fixed: a spread of salatim to start, then meat and vegetable skewers over the coals, then soft-serve. Reservations are famously hard to land, which tells you something about how the room fills on a Tuesday.

Vertical spits of peppery, marinated meat looming behind the counter set the tone at this dark, industrial counter-service spot in Oakland. The shawarma comes wrapped in flour tortillas with a fierce, garlicky toum that means business. Named one of Esquire's Best New Restaurants in America, Shawarmaji has quietly shifted what Bay Area diners expect from a wrap. Order the chicken and ask for extra toum; you will not regret it.

Freshly baked pita lands on the table almost before you've settled in, which is either a warning or a promise at this upmarket Lebanese restaurant in the Flatiron. The name means "tell me" in colloquial Arabic, and the format backs that up: sharing plates built around hot and cold meze, hummus in several moods, baba ghanoush, fattoush, falafel. Mains like seared lamb chops reward anyone who holds back.

Stone walls, an arched ceiling, and a lower level with its own fireplace make this Lebanese restaurant feel more like a Beirut cellar than a Fulton Market address. The chef draws on family recipes for his mezze and tasting menu, moving through charred pita and parsley hummus before landing on stylized takes on traditional stews and fish dishes. The bar pours cocktails built around arak and tahini for a shorter, looser visit.

The menu traces the old trade routes from the Middle East through Central Asia, which explains why harissa-glazed duck and a clay tagine can coexist without argument. Karravaan is a sharing-plates restaurant built around bold spice and generous pours of both flavor and portion. House-made flatbread arrives hot enough to matter, and the kitchen leans hard into communal eating. A good call for a group that can't agree on a cuisine but somehow always agrees on more food.

Cumin is in the name and in the air at this Fairfax District restaurant, where ikat fabrics drape the wood furnishings and the menu reads like a Silk Road itinerary. Zira Uzbek Kitchen serves the food of Uzbekistan, a cuisine that lands somewhere between Central Asian and Middle Eastern, with hand-pulled noodle soup, shashlik off the grill, and fat dumplings that regulars argue over. The Michelin Guide includes it among its selected restaurants in Los Angeles.

Hammered metal tiles line the ceiling and cookbooks fill the shelves at this daytime cafe on Petaluma's waterfront, where the menu runs through Eastern Mediterranean breakfast and lunch that shifts with the seasons. The Jerusalem-style bagels, looped long and chewy, are made in-house. Turkish coffee comes spiced with cardamom and cinnamon. Gratuity is built into the prices, which saves you the math and explains the sticker shock.

The looming white-domed oven is the centerpiece of this tiny Astoria storefront, which has the brisk pace of a slice shop but the latticed oriel windows and warm arabesques of a Cairo street. It specializes in feteer, flaky layered pies pressed with ghee and folded around fillings, the basturma version packed with heavily garlicked air-dried beef. The New York Times named it among New York's 100 best restaurants. Steinway Street already has its Little Egypt; now it has a destination.

Za'atar buns and feta-filled croissants are the draws at this Middle Eastern and Mediterranean-inspired bakery on South Lamar, which started as a viral pop-up before finding a permanent home. The leap from online orders to a brick-and-mortar is a big one, and plenty of pop-ups don't make it, so the line out front tells you something. Pastries, breads, and cakes round out the case.

A lunch window on Vine Street where the herbs arrive in what can only be described as quantities. The team behind it came up through Chez Panisse, and their California produce fixation reads clearly in the Middle Eastern menu: falafel with a serious crunch, flatbreads buried in mint and dill, yogurt spiked with broccoli and dill. Takeout only, which keeps things honest. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the best Berkeley and best Bay Area Middle Eastern spots.

The only Somali restaurant in the Bay Area sits in a circular building near a train station and has the easy, welcoming energy of a diner. The suqaar, chicken or beef stir-fried with peppers and the earthy Somali spice blend xawaash, arrives wrapped in flatbread or plated over rice, injera, or spaghetti. The San Francisco Chronicle puts it in the Bay Area Top 100.

String lights stretch across a patio hung with art made from repurposed tools, which sets the tone for Spread Kitchen, a Lebanese-inspired restaurant on the Sonoma Highway where lemons show up in nearly everything. The chef's citrus fixation runs from the whipped feta and beet dip through the fried cauliflower to the tahini drizzled over the za'atar fries. The San Francisco Chronicle put it in their Bay Area Top 100.

Murals of desert landscapes and the Nasser family carving shawarma off vertical spits cover the walls, which tells you most of what you need to know. Abu Salim is a counter-service Middle Eastern spot on Haight Street, casual in the way the neighborhood demands. The hummus runs soft-serve creamy and the Ramallah-style falafels shatter cleanly. Portions lean generous, and the kitchen covers shawarma plates, vegetarian combos, and salads with evident care.

This is a big, family-friendly Lebanese restaurant in Dearborn, and it's apparently where half of Detroit sends you the moment you land at the airport. The pita comes out of an oven shipped over from Lebanon, which is more dedication than most of us give our commutes. Come for the hummus, the shawarma wraps with a sharp hit of toum, or a slow-roasted lamb on almond rice built for a table of relatives. Order the Lemon Crush.

Colorful fabric drapes the ceiling like a Bedouin tent, and the smell of mesquite smoke hits you before you find a table. Al Bawadi is a sprawling Middle Eastern grill in Niles where the portions arrive on banquet platters, hummus and rice piled high enough to guarantee tomorrow's lunch. Kefta, kebabs, lamb, chicken, seafood, all over hardwood. The New York Times put it on their list of the 25 best restaurants in Chicago right now.

A halal grocery and meat market in Sunnyvale that also happens to run a charcoal grill out back. Order a koobideh or chicken tikka skewer and about fifteen minutes later someone emerges with an aluminum tray lined with lavash, which quietly absorbs all the smoky, spiced drippings. The San Francisco Chronicle named it one of the Bay Area's top Middle Eastern spots. Sides you'll have to source elsewhere, but the skewers alone make the detour easy to justify.

A Middle Eastern breakfast cafe in the Gilbert suburbs, Rayoog has other locations in Jordan and Iraq, which gives you a sense of what this place is actually for. The move is to come with people willing to share: platters arrive loaded with eggs, hummus, falafel, yogurt, fava beans, and baba ghanoush, and the signature trays stack two metal teapots on top of a ring of small sweet and savory dishes, which is a genuinely dramatic way to start a morning.

Two Latino chefs who spent careers in Mediterranean kitchens run this casual East Bay restaurant, which wanders freely across Persian, Iraqi, and Afghani cooking without planting a flag in any one of them. The menu splits into grilled and sautéed plates, both arriving with vivid yellow basmati rice. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's top Middle Eastern spots, which tracks for a room this unpretentious doing food this specific.

The red and green sign is easy to miss from San Pablo Ave, but regulars know to look. This Lebanese diner has a U-shaped counter and an endearing no-fuss quality that suits heavily spiced shawarma and kafta, served on combo plates with rice, garlic sauce, tzatziki, and brothy lentil soup. The baba ghanoush is flame-roasted and worth the detour. Picnic tables out front if you prefer sky to ceiling.

The grandfather's hummus and falafel recipes from his 1951 Jordanian restaurant anchor the menu at this cheerful fast-casual Middle Eastern spot in Dublin. The chicken shawarma comes with a sharp, garlicky toum that earns its own reputation, and baklava soft-serve with honey and flaky phyllo does the work of dessert. The walls say "We have a great sense of hummus," so you know exactly where you stand. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's top Middle Eastern restaurants.

Halal butcher shop by day, charcoal grill operation by the afternoon, Dearborn Meat Market has been doing both long enough that the regulars don't bother with the menu. The move is a tray of kabobs or kafta, roasted over charcoal in the back, with hummus and pita alongside. It's a narrow, welcoming room in the heart of Dearborn's Lebanese corridor, and few places in the area do lamb this well.

The house falafel recipe here is so closely guarded that the family started selling it wholesale rather than let anyone reverse-engineer it at a competitor's table. This cash-friendly falafel shop sits in Anaheim's Little Arabia District and gets properly packed at lunch, so the outdoor patio exists for good reason. The baba ganoush and hummus are the moves, though the feta fries suggest the kitchen isn't precious about tradition either.

The open grill station at the front tells you exactly how things work here: you order at the counter, watch the kebabs cook, and find a wooden booth. This counter-service Middle Eastern spot in Oro Valley keeps a refrigerated case stocked with fresh kebabs and a dessert case loaded with sweets. The kanafeh, a cheese pastry soaked in syrup and finished with crushed pistachios, is the move after.

The wood-fired oven handles both meat skewers and cheesy pizza pies, which tells you this Northwest Hills Middle Eastern spot has range. Hummus, falafel, baba ghanouj, and shawarma anchor the menu, and the breakfast service alone sets it apart from the usual halal shortlist. The bright, patio-fronted room draws soccer watch parties and families in equal measure, which means it's already building the kind of regulars that take years to earn.

A shawarma stall on St. Marks Place so cheerfully cramped it barely counts as a room, run by two friends who once cooked for Daniel Boulud and apparently never got spices out of their system. The vertical spit is the anchor, but everything on the menu, labneh, falafel, harissa, gets the same obsessive seasoning treatment: cumin, cinnamon, dill, and a few turns you won't see coming. Named one of New York's best new restaurants of 2024 by the Times.

Abu Omar Halal started as a food truck and eventually got a roof, which is the kind of upgrade people at 2 a.m. appreciate. It's a casual counter-service spot built around shawarma, which arrives in wraps, over rice, loaded on fries, or as a salad bowl for the self-appointed healthy one. The family order comes panini-style on sesame bread, sliced like pizza. It stays open until 3 a.m., and until 5 on weekends.

The bakery tucked into the basement of this West Roxbury Middle Eastern grocery has been an old-school institution for Lebanese-style sweets, pies, and breads. Baklava, za'atar manakish, and spinach pies come out daily, and you can pair a pita sandwich with hummus or baba ganoush while stocking up on groceries and house-made kibbeh. The kind of market where the list of things to grab keeps growing the longer you browse.

The homemade pita, puffy and fresh, is the detail that keeps ASU students coming back across generations at this no-frills Tempe restaurant and grocery. Shawarma, falafel, kebabs, and baba ghanoush fill the menu at prices that don't require a financial aid disbursement. Baklava in pistachio and Arizona pecan closes things out. The strip-mall setting is deeply unromantic, which seems to be the point.

A food hall in West Adams where the stalls read like a who's-who of L.A.'s best operators: Thai fried chicken from the Holy Basil crew, tlayudas from Poncho's, tamales and weekend barbacoa from Tamales Elena. The rotating pop-up slot keeps regulars guessing, and Sook sells Levantine pantry goods alongside pre-packaged dishes for the commute home. The full-service Maydan restaurant anchors the back with hearth-fired Lebanese-leaning spreads and whole roasted mains.

Sand coffee brewed over heated sand until frothy is the move here, and Yala is one of the only coffee shops in the city serving it. The Middle Eastern cafe on Sunset leans into fig matcha lattes and espresso-apricot tonics alongside the traditional stuff. It shares a block with a natural wine bar and a flea market, so the sidewalk patio fills with the kind of Silver Lake crowd that has strong opinions about both coffee and vintage denim.