Legacy. History. These two words come to mind at the thought of Emily’s Lebanese Deli in Northeast Minneapolis. Open for the last 51 years, there have been four generations of families working to remember, sustain, and cook memories.

Ron Awaijane has lived his life in this restaurant. As he recalls, “I went to grade school right across the street. There used to be a grade school where that parking lot is now [a parking lot across the street from the restaurant]. And then I hung around Dickman Park when I was a kid. We grew up about eight blocks away from here.” He remembers the community as nearly all immigrants. 

As to the beginning of the restaurant, he recalls “My ma and dad originally would bake bread in our basement at the house and sell flatbread… just immigrants finding a way to make a little extra money.” This grew slowly to a restaurant once he was eighteen. 

After his mother got sick he says, “I got thrown into it and I learned real quick [how to cook].” Awaijane and his father ran the restaurant for much time in anything but harmony. As he recollects, “My dad liked to argue, he didn't like it that I was basically in charge. So we argued a lot.” Despite this, his father worked until he was 90 years old. 

Now 69 years old, Ron Awaijane and his son, Tom Awaijane run the restaurant. For Tom Awaijane, it is the only existence, the only job he has ever known. As Ron Awaijane described, “It's the way of life. It's been the way of life my whole life. It's 51 years.” This is the truth for many others in the restaurant. As Ron Awaijane describes, “My niece, who's working over there, this have been her only job. My nephew, he's off picking up some stuff. It's been his only job.” For them, the impact is unquantifiable as “It's dominated our lives more than anything else.”

Having so much family is “a unique dynamic with good and bad about it,” as Ron Awaijane says. On the upside,  “It keeps the family heritage alive.” One of the great powers of keeping family heritage is that “a lot of cultures and families identify through family recipes and that's a thing that doesn't stick around as much these days. You don't see that and we've had the luxury of staying close and keeping old traditions, and recipes alive.” 

On the downside, Ron Awaijane believes family has cost him many gray hairs as he details “When they come late, I can't do anything, because I want to have them around.”

Looking towards the future, Tom Awaijane has given thought to legacy and believes sincerely, “We've got four generations now that are working here, so I'd like to keep it going.” 

Tom Awaijane would like to keep the old-world feel of the restaurant while modernizing through a modern webpage and an online ordering system, but Ron Awaijane will not let this happen, saying “That'll happen when I'm a memory.” They attribute their ability to stick with history and their 51-year legacy to the community surrounding them saying, “ A lot of people have been coming here for many years… [and] the Lebanese church across the street has supported us.”

I took time out from school on a Tuesday to delight in the history-bathed food. The first two things that were brought out were the Baba Ganoush and Tabbouleh. The Baba Ganoush was enjoyable and preferable to frequently seen brands in grocery stores as it was fresh and homemade. This though, was not the item that blew my socks off. 

That title goes to the Tabbouleh. This is the best tabbouleh in the city and I would fight over those words. Simple in palet yet tangy and heavily influenced by cinnamon, the bulgur, the fresh vegetables, and the juice mixed to create a zappy and exciting experience in my mouth. It had many comforting qualities but also was addicting. I was near to being in need to be physically restrained. After putting the leftovers in the fridge after the meal, the Tabbouleh didn’t survive the night.

Do you know what also barely survived the night? The spinach pie. This wizardry was the surprise of the meal. I’d heard them say that it was one of their most popular dishes, so I thought that I ought to try it, but did not come in with high expectations… I cannot understate how wrong I was. You have to go try it yourself as this was a warm hug of my stomach. The palette was traditional and focused upon a singular goal. By no means will this be the most extravagant thing you eat, but it is simply sublime and makes me feel like Bob Marley’s words “every little thing is gonna be alright” are true. 

Now on to a labor of love. The Stuffed Grape Leaves (also known as dolma) were delicious. As I conducted the interview, my eye kept on lingering toward Alicia Awaijana, because she was individually wrapping rice and meat into the grape leaves. Individually wrapping those grape leaves would make me go insane. I will salute anyone willing to do that. The Stuffed Grape Leaves also had a great deal of flavor and pop with an intriguing textural profile between the rice, meat, and grape leaf. The grape leaves had an animated zing to them as I crunched through them and the rice and meat soothed the taste buds.

Finally, the Chicken and Rice. Now, this is not your typical chicken and rice that gym bros endlessly push. No, this is a masterclass in the department and would put the gym bro chicken and rice to shame. It was perfectly comforting to the soul and the pinenuts interspersed throughout the dish added a fun addition. The rice and chicken were perfectly seasoned with cinnamon and other perfectly paired spices. The flavors of the seasonings added complex depth to the tender chicken. Only the most finicky and fussy eaters would fail to love this. It tasted like the food of a Lebanese grandmother I never had, and before I could even blink my eye, half of the food on the plate was gone.

Stuffed to the brim with delicious food and long-lasting memories, Emily’s Lebanese Deli is a reminiscent and necessary stop for anyone in Northeast on University Ave. While you’re there, pick me up a spinach pie.