Most Karachians have had little contact with Arabic food, other than the ubiquitous shawarma stalls that dot the metropolis. But one must say, especially after having lived in the Middle East for a considerable amount of time, even the shawarma available in Karachi is a second-rate, though at times passable, alternative to the real thing.

However, we’ll save shawarma for another day, for Arabic cuisine covers a vast territory and for those in the know, its delightful desert delicacies can compete with the finest dishes of the world.

The Arabs themselves are a diverse lot. Even the language differs slightly from place to place. So it is no surprise that from Morocco in the west to Oman in the east and from Syria in the north to Yemen in the south, the cuisine, though sharing some common traits, is strongly influenced by its local climes.

Hence it’s no surprise that the few places in Karachi that offer Arabic cuisine, or what is labelled Arabic cuisine, have adjusted their fare to suit local taste-buds.

One such place – named after the Syrian capital and located in Clifton on the road to the Two Swords roundabout – serves up pretty decent Arabic fare, by Karachi’s standards. To satiate our fix for all things Arabic, a companion and I headed out to the damascene setting on a recent pleasant Karachi evening.

The diners are seated in a parking lot bifurcated into two sections – one for families and the other for males. The restaurant itself is based out of a rather small storefront and wandering waiters float around taking orders.

But the first thing to hit the olfactory factory senses is not the scent of sizzling mashwiyat (barbeque), but various fruity odours such as apple, strawberry, gooseberry and God knows what else, emanating from the plentiful shishas.

Being no big fan of tobacco, these water-pipes – wildly popular amongst the youths here – bear no major appeal to this writer. Besides, the smell of a real Arabic shisha, usually found at traditional coffee houses called gahwas, is so heady and overpowering that one feels the trendy kids who inhale hit after hit of watermelon-flavoured shisha here would not be able to handle it.

But we’ll leave the anti-tobacco tirade for now. The food at the aforementioned joint was pretty darn good, and I have yet to taste better Arabic food in Karachi, other than at the occasional food festivals hosted by five-star hotels.

We ordered both the mezze (starters) and main course in one go, as even traditionally, the Arabs serve only two courses: the main course and desert.

The falafel – now an internationally recognised fast-food – was crisp and accompanied by a delicious garlic sauce. Falafel , also known as ta’amiya, are fried balls made from either lentils, chick-peas or fava beans.

In the Arab world they are served either separately or in sandwich form, ensconced within pita bread and topped with tahina (sesame seed paste), turshi (pickled vegetables) and hot sauce. Personally, I find the falafel sandwich simply scrumptious, but even in plain form they are a tasty snack.

Though we had also ordered tabouleh, a delicious salad originally from Lebanon, we got nothing of the sort and instead were served pickled veggies of various assortments. The mutabbal, a version of baba ghanoujh, a dish made from eggplants, was satisfactory.

Marching on to the main course, farrough, basically char-grilled chicken, we were not dissatisfied. Attacking it with pita — Arabic flatbread — and dipping it in that divine garlic sauce as well as hummus, a dip made from chick-peas, which is probably the most internationally well-known of Arabic foods, was truly a delight.

The crisp skin makes farrough stand out, as opposed to the oily, fatty but equally delicious broast that is commonly consumed in Karachi.

To be fair, we tried out another joint in the Boating Basin area that was previously known for its (limited) Arabic fare. When we reached the place, the Arabic menu had shrunk to shawarma and hummus.

What went wrong? Had their relations with the Arabs deteriorated? Regardless, the shawarma was way too spicy (the Arabs should sue for defaming their delicacy), while what was supposed to be hummus looked and tasted like desi yoghurt. Even the non-Arabic fare was, to say the least, unpalatable. However, one has to take such risks to discover new and unexplored gastronomic goodies.

There is room for a lot more. For instance, one is sure Karachians would gladly gobble up such delicacies as awsal¸ ruz laham, foul, malfuf and the like. Interestingly, Arabic sweets such as the nutty baklava, have made it to local bakeries and sweetmeat marts.

One is sure that a few more outlets specializing in Arabic food would be a welcome addition to Kolachi’s cuisine.