Canto CDXLV: Kareem Living the Dream

Gentle cabrones:

It was 9:30 in the morning in Anaheim’s Little Arabia district, and I was hungry.

I wanted fatteh from Kareem’s.

One of the oldest businesses in Little Arabia, and probably the oldest restaurant in the Middle Eastern enclave, one of the largest of its kind in the United States. Opened 30 years ago, and I’ve been lucky enough to be a patron for 24 of them — after Mos 2 and Memphis Cafe (Canto CDXI), the OC restaurant I’ve patronized the longest.

When I was a food critic for the Infernal Rag, I rarely returned to the restaurants I critiqued because there were other places to discover — but Kareem’s quickly made my regular rotation. Mike and Nesrine opened their spot in the mid-1990s, so proud of their Nazareth hometown that a painting of Mary’s Well was what passed for interior decoration for years.

The Hawaris reminded me of aunts and uncles – they even looked like people from back in Jerez. Always with a smile, Nesrine was the jokier of the two while Mike the big softy. The two cooked the usual Middle Eastern mix of grilled meats and dips as pita sandwiches or plates, but better and fresher than competitors. They were and are most famous for falafels so spectacular that a legendary musician that I know once said Kareem’s fried one of three great falafels he had tasted in his life, the other two being in Palestine and Berlin.

But the dish I always ordered when it was available was fatteh. Almond slivers, yogurt, chickpeas and a bit of tahini whipped together and heated up so it turns into the most savory breakfast porridge of your life, then drizzled with olive oil and spiked with toasted pita slices. Sumptuous and humongous, I ended up ordering it so many times that Mike and Nesrine named it after me – Gustavo’s Fatteh — even though the dish I ordered more often was a simple labneh sandwich that’s not even on the menu, which always amused them because me ordering it was like going to Taco María and asking for a Del Taco cheese quesadilla.

I wrote about Kareem’s whenever possible, I took newbies all the time — I went so often that the family saw my relationship with my honey turn from me flexing about my food knowledge while I was courting her to us enjoying big meals as a couple to me making runs to bring back home to my wife. The Hawaris represented the Orange County I knew to be true, the Orange County others were taking note of, the Orange County I was making a career out of covering. It delighted me when Kareem’s began to get L.A. media attention, nothing better than when Mike appeared on Channel 4’s weekend morning show in 2010 with a big spread of of grub offered by the gentle giant that regulars knew — soft-spoken, humble like all of us should be, generous like too few of us will ever be.

Kareem’s closed for a stretch in 2012 when Mike passed away from lung cancer and could have stayed closed. But Nesrine continued. Kareem’s food never suffered, the hospitality never wavered, business remained strong — a testament to her resilience. But I didn’t go as much as I used to once my editorial responsibilities increased and my career began to take me more to Los Angeles. Nevertheless, I always tried to visit a few times a year to check in and see what the person who Kareem is named after was doing to continue his parent’s legacy.

Kareem Hawari has his father’s eyes and mother’s smile. I remember him and his sister as preteens doing their homework or playing GameCube in a storage room. He was the one working the counter when I stopped by at 9:30 on that recent morning.

The sign outside said Kareem’s wouldn’t be open until noon because of a catering order — damnit! So I entered to at least pay my respects and hopefully leave with some locally made pita bread and a can of Vimto (the Dr. Pepper of the Middle East) so I could support.

“Gustavo! How are you doing!” Kareem exclaimed in a tone as cheery as the T-shirt he wore stating “F*A*L*A*F*E*L” ala the Friends logo.

I replied I wanted to eat breakfast, but saw that they were closed but at least wanted to say what’s up.

“I can make breakfast for you, no problem. What do you want?”

I asked for fatteh then immediately regretted it. It’s a complex dish one doesn’t just request when a restaurant is officially closed.

Kareem smiled.

“For you, Gustavo? Anything.”

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Kareem’s nowadays reflects Kareem’s sensibilities. Brighter. A patio that doubled the square footage of the restaurant and functions as a Levantine dream on sunny mornings. Menu with Gen Z-friendly graphics and options — food now comes as a wrap, a bowl or a salad. A few more products — the aforementioned pita bread, olive oil from Palestine, a really good nuts mix that I buy all the time. Best yet is Kareem’s pita chips and frozen falafels, stocked in the better food markets in Southern California and beyond and available to purchase along your meal.

The last remnants of the old designs, really, is me. You can find my framed, yellowed 2003 review for the Infernal Rag hanging on the wall of Kareem’s tiny dining room; two other walls feature a bigger display for a smaller blurb I wrote in 2009, and a more recent Los Angeles Times write-up I did during the pandemic. More reviews have joined mine — may more continue to do so

I didn’t try to bother Kareem because he had a bunch of meals to do for teachers, but he couldn’t help but catch up with me. The business is great. His mom is doing well – I saw her the last time I had visited a few months ago. Kareem brought over pickled beets and papers and a falafel as a snack along with a spicy dip I told him that he needs to make spicier for Mexicans, which made him laugh. But the falafel remained perfect: crunchy brown exterior, a fragrant interior as green as Eire and soft like cornbread.

The fatteh finally came — it’s now called Mama’s Fatteh. As much as I love the dish, I hadn’t tasted it in years since it’s a morning meal and my schedule usually limits me to afternoon visits. It was far bigger than I remembered it — and more beautiful than before. Now, Kareem framed the fatteh with huge pita chips in addition to the smaller ones inside. He drizzled pomegranate molasses for sweetness and color, and threw in a cilantro sprig not just as a garnish but for a jolt of freshness.

Mama’s Fatteh is for three, so big and filling it is. But I was determined to eat it all in one sitting — and did. I told Kareem that his father would’ve been proud of him and he smiled.

“One of the last things my dad told me was ‘Don’t change my recipes,’” he said. “We never did.”

A few weeks later, Kareem sent me a promo video that had his father holding him and his two young sisters as toddlers and babies. Mike’s grin and eyes took me back to when I first came to Kareem’s, to when I made a promise to myself that every article I might ever do link to each others as part of a bigger jigsaw puzzle that might help others see the better Orange County I knew was emerging.

Twenty five years later, it’s great to know that I saw los buenos like the Hawaris win.

Kareem’s, 1208 S Brookhurst St., Anaheim, (714) 862-1022. IG: @kareems.official

**

Enough rambling. This was the semana that was:

IMAGE OF THE WEEK: The type of anonymous hate mail I get haha — now, it’s hanging at my work station!

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “Humans are allergic to change. They love to say, ‘We’ve always done it this way.’ I try to fight that. That’s why I have a clock on my wall that runs counterclockwise.” — Grace Murray Hopper

LISTENING: “B Boys Make Some Noise,” Grandmaster Caz. A hip-hop pioneer writing himself into the narrative that pushed him out, complete with taut rhymes, beats, scratches, the slightest of distortions, and burns against the haters — we’re back at an apartment party in the Bronx with Debbie Harry listening from afar! Hence included in Gustavo Arellano’s Weekly Radiola of Randomness YouTube songlist, where I’ve included every song I’ve ever featured in a canto — give it a spin!

READING: “A Worker Reads and Asks”: Me and poetry are weird — I get a poem every day via email, but most of it is pompous dreck. But when one lands, it lands. This one: Perfect pacing, slow build, never over the top, sometimes even wry. Yeah, Brecht was a Marxist, but regarding the content of his poem, as the kids would say, #wheresthelie

Gustavo Events  

Feb. 28:, 4 p.m.: I’m going to be doing…something…for Breath of Fire Latina Theater Ensemble’s annual fundraiser. Last year, I got folks to donate money AND got two cantos out of the experience, so you KNOW it’s going to be good. Tickets start at $80, but don’t be a cheapskate — now, more than ever, we need art so RSVP TODAY. Will start at 4 p.m. and will be at my honey’s Alta Baja Market, 201 E. Fourth St., Ste. 101, Santa Ana.

March 29, 7 p.m.: So remember in the winter of 2024 when I said I was going to be a part of an incredible recital of medieval Nahuatl Christmas songs and urged ustedes to go — and only Guti Gang co-enforcer Diane went? You’re lucky, because Jouyssance, the Southern California choral group that focuses on songs from before the Renaissance, is staging Spirit Child again — and this time, it’s FOR FREE. At Drinkward Recital Hall at Harvey Mudd College, 320 E. Foothill Blvd, Claremont — more info here.

Gustavo in the News

“Superb Snack History: The secret life of seven-layer dip”: A shout-out to my Taco USA book

“The taqueria that gave us soft tacos set to become L.A. historic site”: A Los Angeles Times colleague offers another shouts out Taco USA.

“I Hold Pam Bondi in Contempt”: A Frank Bruni reader shouts out a line of mine in a columna of mine.

“This L.A. Mexican Restaurant Could Become A Historic Landmark — Credited As The First U.S. Taco Truck“: And yet another shout-out to my Taco USA book!

“‘Restaurateurs have become millionaires’”: I’m telling you, someone at The Week loves my stuff — gracias!

Gustavo Stories 

“Grítale a Guti”: Latest edition of my Tuesday night IG Live free-for-all.

“Judge dismisses deportation case of O.C. father”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” commentary talks about the continuing case of Narciso Barranco.

"He got a colonoscopy for his 47th birthday and wants raise awareness among other Latinos”: I talk about the subject at hand with KJZZ out in Phoenix.

“How ICE insulted 28 Mexican immigrants who died in a 1948 plane crash”: My latest L.A. Times Essential California newsletter shows what ghouls la migra are anew — and how Woody Guthrie is a prophet supreme. KEY QUOTE: “But Rodriguez takes solace in knowing he and others are doing their part to make sure people know the full story.”

“Chipotle just saw its worst year ever. It may not get any better”: My latest L.A. Times columna offer still yet another plug for Taco USA. KEY QUOTE: “Boatwright would be wise to heed this history and either take Chipotle into new frontiers or prepare for its inevitable irrelevance.”

You made it this far down? Gracias! Follow me on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram while you’re down here by clicking on their logos down below. Don’t forget to forward this newsletter to your compadres y comadres! You can’t get me tacos anymore, but you sure as hell can give them — and more — to the O.C. Catholic Worker!