It’s possible to buy pockets of love. Homer proved it one warm, puffy pitta at a time.
Even a blustery, wet sidewalk couldn’t deter a dozen-plus shuffling patrons from claiming their spot in line. Because while the former yoga-studio was anything but roomy, the promise of hand-rolled, wood-fired pita was just steps away.
Inside the close quarters felt a bit like walking into the humming kitchen of a good friend — warm with a bit of hectic passion. The wood-fired oven glowed as large heads of cauliflower were paddle-fed into its depths.
Along the back wall, the red embers of a wood grill had charred the white tile a thick black. Atop its rack was an extravaganza of burnt cabbage and charred meats. Spreads were ladled with generous plops. Spices were added through fine mesh sleeves. The wait staff bustled from table to bar with what could best be called pep, their boisterous laughter radiating through the room like an intoxicating elixir.
Come prepared to share. The menu’s littered with so many good choices it’d be a shame to only try one or two.
Arrive with your entire party. Homer won’t seat you until everyone’s there.
Sit at the bar facing the kitchen. The temperatures may be sweat-inducing, but the view is worth the heat. So too is the access to the chatty line cooks who are happy to answer questions and share their favorites.
Start with the ‘set of top three spreads.’ Hands down it’s the best deal on the menu. (Each spread ordered individually would cost you $24 as compared for $16.) But more importantly, each spread is intriguingly different – ranging from sweet to savory to tangy. As one of my companions so eloquently said, ‘Give me all the pitas and I’ll be eating these for days.’
Where you take the menu from there really doesn’t matter. Each sultry dish we saw plated was as glorious as the next. But hands down, our favorite bite of the night were the wood roasted potatoes ($13). Served with a smoked trout dip, these deeply browned nuggets were pan-fried in lamb fat until their edges crackled and the interiors melted.
The grilled beets came on a bed of pureed pumpkin seeds spiked with honey, lime, and ginger ($12). And, the roasted chicken was given a sweet pump of flavor from the thick chili-fruit paste ($20).
During my next visit, I’m determined to try the charred carrots, which looked like blackened wizard wands; the burnt cabbage, a leafy extravaganza topped with za’atar; and the roasted lamb ribs topped with thin slices of Asian pear.
However, if my party gets distracted once again by ordering another round of pita to sop up extra sauces, I won’t complain one bit. They. Were. Exquisite.
Note: Photos taken with an iPhone. They don’t do this humble Beacon Hill gem justice.