Cuisine: Middle Eastern / Mediterranean
Let’s get the cringey part out of the way. This joint, when it first opened, was called Uncle Mustache. Uncle Mustache. Mustache. It is not an appetizing word. Nor an image you want in your head when you’re wolfing plates of Lebanese food. I’ve seen the mustaches on Ms. Hipster’s Lebanese ancestors and you could lose a small child in those things. To the owner’s credit, he changed the name and now I can eat here without thinking about a giant crumbduster hanging over my dish of hummus. Good move.
My first experience with Uncle Momo was at some point during the pandemic when we’d tired of all of our takeout options. Now, I’ve done a ton of take away Middle Eastern fare in any number of styrofoam and plastic containers over the years. From carts. From trucks. From a couple brick and mortar restaurants. But Momo’s didn’t really survive the trip unscathed. The portion seemed somewhat dinky and the shawarma’s moisture must have evaporated somewhere between the spit and my plate. It was a shame, as the flavor was there, but not the texture and execution. Like a lot of COVID-time eating, I cut the joint a break and figured I’d be back in person at some juncture to experience it in reality. Since the space itself is what Ms. Hipster would call adorable. A kind of Middle Eastern take on a French bistro. A look and feel near and dear to our hearts. If you saw our kitchen, you’d understand.
So, we finally made it to the actual restaurant and weren’t disappointed. The interior is indeed an adorable French bistro with a hodgepodge of antiques, pressed tin ceiling, antiqued mirrors, hand-drawn signs and those dark, worn woods with the oxblood leather seats and the requisite old bicycle on the wall. It’s all very organic and cozy in a way that makes it feel like the place has been around much longer than its genesis in 2012. And, I suppose, that’s the point. We were there with a group of around eight or so, sat in the front of the restaurant — which itself is not very large — and felt almost like we were being treated to a private party of sorts given the personal attention from our server and their being okay with our volume level (which was probably enhanced by many bottles of wine). We ate mounds of baba ganoush, hummus and labne, sopping it up with homemade pita. All very rich and appropriately garlicked and oiled. And, of course, some kibbe, which Ms. Hipster will never rate higher than her grandmother’s, but was a different, but decent, facsimile and fulfilled that great spiced ground beef and labne (yogurt) combo that’s tied to my Lebanese experience with her family.
I can’t ever resist a chicken shawarma, which was my choice for a main. And it was a lot. Already stuffed full of appetizers (and booze) I probably shouldn’t haven’t have hoovered the entire plate of marinated chicken thigh, rice and tahini, but I did. And, again, there was a lot of food there. A total and completely different experience than my takeout swing from the COVID years. The grub was plentiful, warm and cooked to shawarma perfection. Now, there are few things I enjoy more than a heaping plate of shawarma, tahini and hummus. So I was immediately in the thrall of Uncle Momo. Which is a sentence I wish I hadn’t typed. But is better than saying I was under the spell of Uncle Mustache, I guess. But, seriously, this isn’t fine dining or haute cuisine or even a pretty, composed plate. It’s food that’s meant to be eaten in a loud, communal setting. A warm, familial setting. Honestly, the only thing that was missing was the after-dinner hookah (though you can find those down the street at Antika Grill if you really need that experience). All in all, I very much enjoyed both the space and the food in a way that felt homey, but also satisfying. Bring friends. Bring wine. And don’t fear getting a little wild with it.
702 Bloomfield Ave. – Montclair
862/213-0621
unclemomo.com
