Bringing a taste of the real Lebanon

Tony Kitous, who's brought Middle Eastern cuisine to the high streets of the UK, has released his first ever Middle Eastern cookbook – and plans six more restaurants in the coming year.

Tony Kitous, who has popularised authentic Middle Eastern food in the UK. Courtesy Tony Kitous

It’s hard to interview Tony Kitous. The Algerian-born restaurateur’s first cookbook – a tie-in with his popular Comptoir Libanais chain of Middle Eastern delicatessens in London – is just out and he has five more delis to follow in the next few months, yet he defiantly says that he is not a chef and has no intentions of ever becoming one.

It is also a challenge because Kitous is a born entertainer. He grew up in Tizi Ouzou in Algeria, learning that the dinner table was the heart of the family home, and he has perfected the art of hosting. “In our culture, if I give you food and you finish your plate, it’s rude because it means I haven’t given you enough,” he says.

The lesson has been learnt well: moments later, I count 15 different sharing platters of mezze, grills, salads and breads on the table in front of us. There are the staples – fattoush, hummus, grilled aubergine and labneh – but also plates of grilled veal liver, huge chunks of spiced mutton shoulder and lamb brain salad. “I was trying out some new recipes in the kitchen earlier,” he says, wiping his hands on his blue and white apron. “You are hungry, aren’t you?”

We are in the London district of Marylebone at lunchtime and, as Comptoir Libanais is too busy to get a quiet table, Kitous has invited me to Levant, another part of his growing Middle Eastern restaurant empire. It’s an underground Lebanese eaterie fitted out with beautiful mashrabiya screens, majlis-style cushions and archaic hanging lanterns that wouldn’t be out of place in the upmarket Beirut souqs or Dubai Marina. For a man who arrived in London 25 years ago at the age of 18 with only £70 in his pocket, it’s clear that he has done rather well. But before I can ask him how he got here, he stops me mid-sentence to call the waiter over again: “Let’s order some more food,” he says with a grin.

Finally, between mouthfuls of chargrilled halloumi and his Lebanese steak tartar with olive oil, Tony Kitous lets me begin.

In the foreword to your new book, you’re adamant that you are not a chef. So why release a cookbook?

I like good food and I’m not pretentious. I’m not creating something unique or challenging. The success of Comptoir Libanais gave me this opportunity and it was an interesting challenge to try to distil the atmosphere of a simple Lebanese restaurant into a book. That’s why I make it very clear from the beginning – I am not a chef and I’m not pretending to be one either, I’m no different to anyone else who loves food.

There has been a massive boom in celebrity cookbooks in recent years – how is yours different?

I remember when I used to work many years ago with some Michelin-star chefs – Gary Hollihead, Pat McDonald, David Cavalier. I learnt that when you start creating a menu, you can lose the plot. Nowadays, you need to have a dictionary to understand these menus and it’s as if chefs are only cooking for the Michelin guide and the critics. They forget who their customers are. And this book doesn’t do that: it’s not for chefs; it’s simple and is for every person who is curious about Lebanese food.

What ingredient can’t you do without and what recipe of yours would be the best starter for a beginner?

Halloumi is to the Lebanese what mozzarella is for the Italians. Most of the time it’s just served fried or grilled, but we serve it with juicy black olives, fresh mint, olive oil and tomatoes. The Italians have mozzarella with basil – we have this. Then there is my marinated salmon in pomegranate molasses – it’s another dish that surprises people. I wanted to include a British ingredient with something common in Lebanese cooking and it works so well, especially when served with a ­fennel salad.

Has the success of the chain surprised you?

It has, to be honest, but it has achieved what I wanted it to do. I wanted a place where people could eat Lebanese food at very accessible prices. It’s an all-day affair – whether it’s breakfast, coffee, afternoon tea or mezze to share, a no-nonsense experience where everything feels authentic. All the design touches from the tabletops to the cutlery jars still bring me back to my childhood memories of my grandparents’ house in Algeria.

Has the perception of Middle Eastern and North African cuisine changed in recent years?

I have been doing Lebanese food for 15 years now, but a lot of people in Europe still think that it’s fast food and only kebabs, so is a no-go zone. It kicks me inside that you see Italian food, Thai, Japanese or Indian everywhere, but you don’t see Lebanese food – there are far more subtleties to it than most people realise. I understand my culture and identity – there is a strong French influence from the 1960s and 1970s running through Algeria, Tunisia, Morocco and Lebanon which makes us all similar, and I want to make it accessible to more people.

Why are the majority of chefs men, especially as most family kitchens are run by the woman of the house?

It has maybe been a taboo for the past few years in the region, but this is changing. I’d love for women from Lebanon to come and work in my restaurants, that’s for sure. I tell you, the heart of it is pleasing women: if you please them in terms of food, then the men just follow.

Why haven’t you decided to take Comptoir Libanais abroad yet? The brand would fit in perfectly in the Gulf, don’t you think?

I think I’d prefer to go to New York or Paris. In the region, it’d be hard for me to find the right partner to work with and there are too many brands and franchises. It’s a bit like sending your child to boarding school and I’m not ready for that – I’d want to be part of it. I get offers on a weekly basis – I’ve been asked to go to Beirut, Tel Aviv, Johannesburg and Hong Kong – but we have to be realistic. It’s not a retail clothing store, this is food and service. My friends from the Middle East always laugh, saying: “Here comes the Algerian teaching us how to make Lebanese food,” but they really admire what I do.

• Comptoir Libanais, A Feast of Lebanese Cooking by Tony Kitous and Dan Lepard is out now. He is working on his second cookbook, provisionally titled Comptoir Express, due in the autumn next year. Visit www.lecomptoir.co.uk for more information.