Grape Leaf Diner (McCord)

If you’ve ever heard someone say, “What the heck is this massive oriental vase doing in the vestibule of a Middle-Eastern restaurant?” you might have been at Grape Leaf Diner on McCord. 

The wife and I had been hearing about this place for years. We’d heard all the claims of Grape Leaf being excellent, having good food, and serving a more “authentic” version of Middle East fare. And of course, having heard all of this on countless occasions, about countless restaurants, only to be subsequently disappointed, we honestly weren’t expecting much. 

We ventured-in recently, on a Thursday evening, and ordered the “party pleasers” tray. We wanted to taste a bit of everything, and we also wanted to make sure we had some leftovers, therefore we figured the party pleaser tray, “serving 3-4 people”, should have been plenty of food. 

We substituted lentil soup for the baba ganoush. Lentil soups I’ve tried before were always of a thinner consistency, loaded with lentils and lemon. When this soup came, it was thick, dark, and gravy-like, more akin to split-pea. But it had good flavor, and it was served in a nice big bowl. 

The grape leaves arrived. I’ve always been partial to the larger, tastier Greek version, stuffed with lamb and rice, served warm with lemon sauce. These grape leaves contained meat and rice but there was nothing special about them. They weren’t cold, but they weren’t great either. These were boring. The vegetarian ones were really boring. 

The hommous came and it was satisfying enough—creamy, with good garlic and tahini flavors. At least it didn’t taste like mayo. 

The server also brought out a hill of that yellow rice that I’m not crazy about. The one with the peas and carrots incorporated into it. Grape Leaf took the extra step of tossing a few almond slivers atop the pile. That little touch made me long for rice pilaf, a superior dish with toasted nuts and vermicelli, served at other Middle Eastern restaurants. 

When the meat arrives, it’s on a plate. Not a platter. Not a tray. One small kafta kabob. One small steak kabob. Two tawook kabobs. That’s it. 

Wait a minute. 

“Wasn’t shawarma part of this deal?”

“It’s right there.” 

“Where?”

There: one of the tawook kabobs is torn into smaller pieces. See? That’s the shawarma! 

Seriously: the same, no-thrills, griddle-fried, tasteless chicken was ripped into smaller pieces (apparently by hand) and presented to us as chicken shawarma. Ta-da! 

This is supposed to feed 3-4 people? I guess you’re good as long as one person only eats seasoned fries because there’s a huge plate of that ish. 

No garnishment, no dressed-up platter, no grilled vegetables with the tantalizing char-marks. That was disappointing. One of the best things about Middle Eastern cuisine is the grilled veggies—carrots, zucchini, onions, and the cold ones like pickles and turnips. None of that here. Just a plate of meat that carried all the dull hue and character of reheated leftovers. 

But the kafta was surprisingly well-seasoned and savory. We enjoyed that for ten seconds, then it was gone. 

In the past, I’ve tasted shish-kabobs that were done so amazingly, succulently well, that it leaves one wondering, “How did they get all of that smoky, intense flavor into these small chunks of meat!?” But at Grape Leaf, one hopes that when forking this piece of kabob, it isn’t accidentally jettisoned from the plate, through the front window, and out into the parking lot where an unsuspecting vehicle could possibly encounter it, resulting in a tire blow-out. A severe blow-out. Like when the guy at Tireman says, “Buddy, you’re lucky to be alive.”

The tahini sauce tasted like watered-down garlic mayo. Not good. So it paired perfectly with the falafel, because those, also, were not good. I tore a piece of falafel open, where I perceived the interior to be green—always a bad sign—and not to my utter astonishment, was it brittle, bland, and dryer than Thanksgiving turkey. 

The “Liquid Health Bar” sounded promising on the menu, but again, these drinks proved to be nothing more than pale surrogates compared to actual “raw juice” drinks served elsewhere. There weren’t any vegetables included in these concoctions, contradicting the implication, by their names, that these drinks were in some way “healthy.” We ordered the Mango Smoothie, Papaya Cooler, and Sweet Sunshine. Save for some nuanced flavors, they all tasted and looked the same—like sugary, berry smoothies. 

Alas, Toledo, unlike your obnoxious motorists, your culinary delights are not world-renown. 

Service was good. The server was friendly and accommodating, but this meal ends up being $80 after gratuity, which is out-of-line with what’s actually received. If I were handing-out stars, I’d give this place two, and that’s only because of the server. But otherwise, sorry, not worth my time. Stick with Byblos or even, Ya Halla.