Tweet
SIUNIK MAKES ARMENIAN FOOD MORE ACCESSIBLE
By Kevin Pang
Chicago Tribune
http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/food/ct-dining-0621-cheap-eater-siunik-20120621,0,1025554.story
June 20 2012
IL
You point-they assemble service at restaurant is much like Chipotle
The first time I sunk my teeth into the pork kabobs at Siunik
Armenian Grill, glistened in its rich semi-rendered fat, speckled
with paprika-like dots of Aleppo peppers, it felt both welcomed and
unfamiliar. Something seemed out of place, like discovering cheese
at a Thai restaurant.
The incongruence soon became clear. You never see kabobs (in the Middle
Eastern sense) and pork together, per Halal laws. Whenever I taste
those region-specific flavors - chickpeas, parsley, dates, yogurt - my
mind fills in the blank with lamb or beef. But Armenia, a predominantly
Christian country surrounded on three sides by predominantly Muslim
countries, doesn't observe such dietary restrictions. Its sparingly
spiced food reflects its crossroads Eurasian geography - peripherally
Middle Eastern, Turkish and Eastern European.
I wonder how Siunik Armenian Grill, an 8-month-old operation in
Glenview and Skokie, tackles the uphill task of introducing an
unfamiliar cuisine to reluctant Midwest American palates. They come
at it from several angles.
First, they serve items such as hummus, which is not Armenian, but
seemingly obligatory at Middle Eastern restaurants. So owner Levon
Kirakosyan added hummus to the menu, and his customer base grew.
Next, they hope to frame the cuisine as unintimidating and accessible.
I might have never stopped in Siunik if a friend hadn't described
the restaurant as "an Armenian Chipotle." That statement's about 70
percent accurate. At its Skokie location, all that's missing from
the concrete floor and two-toned wood panels are the funky Mayan wall
sculptures. Warm holding trays are stacked on the glass-partitioned
counter, where service is you-point-and-they-assemble.
Like Chipotle, an entree contains one each of meat, starch, vegetable,
side and sauce, which can be wrapped in a flour tortilla-like
lavosh flatbread, or heaped onto a plate. I'd suggest against the
wrap option here ($5-$5.75). Unfamiliar ingredients should be tasted
individually and not lumped into a haphazard mess. Go with the plate
instead ($7-$9.25), where you can see the vibrancy splayed out -
the Christmas colors of parsley and tomato tabbouleh, or chopped red
onions with the purple, lemony powder of ground sumac.
On my visits, there was one cashier and one cook. Here's where Chipotle
aspiration ends and small business reality begins. A grandmotherly type
tended the grill, rotating stainless steel skewers to order. There
are no grab-and-go meals here. The food arrived when it did, which
was no more than five minutes. I later found out she was Hayastan
Kirakosyan, mother of Levon, who emigrated from Armenia six years
ago and helps at the restaurant.
She developed most of the dishes as a housewife. Levon said he's
proudest of his mother's mushroom pilaf, and I'll second that - cous
cous-like cracked wheat steeped in mushroom and onion broth. Kasha,
too, is a family recipe: steamed buckwheat kernels, nutty and
gluten-free, rooted in Armenia's Eastern European ancestry.
It's a subtle thing, but I appreciate the varied textures on my plate
avoiding one-note mushiness. There's a crunchiness to the cabbage
salad, a crumbly crispness to the honey cake, a gentle give to the
tender grilled meats. The made-in-house yogurt, smooth and tangy on
the intake, provides a cool counterpoint to the hot kabobs. The first
item listed on the menu (which I'd assume to be its proudest offering)
is the lula kabob. It's a first cousin to kefta kabobs, ground beef
formed into cigars that tastes like your nana's onion meatloaf. The
cubed steak and chicken breast kabobs both retained moistness, too,
a minor miracle. (A vegetarian plate of red beans and parsley is also
available, as is a $4.95 weekday lunch special of chicken, steak and
lula kabobs.)
Among dipping sauces, lolik is a spicy marriage of tomato salsa and
ajver, the Balkan red pepper sauce accompanying cevapcici (a second
cousin to lula kabobs). Garmiruk isn't far off from bloody mary mix.
Taken as a whole, a forkful from each corner of the plate, the meal
transports you from the North Shore, though you're not exactly sure
where it takes you. Middle Eastern? Persian Empire? A hint of Soviet?
I found it filling and exotically ambiguous.
Siunik Armenian Grill
1707 Chestnut Ave., Glenview, 847-724-7800 and 4839 Oakton St.,
Skokie, 847-329-4200
Open: 11 a.m.-8 p.m. Monday-Saturday; 11 a.m.-7:30 p.m. Sunday. Credit
cards accepted, though cash preferred. Most expensive entree item
is $9.25
Recommended: Pork kabob, combo plate, mushroom pilaf, hamov (sauteed
eggplant), honey cake
By Kevin Pang
Chicago Tribune
http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/food/ct-dining-0621-cheap-eater-siunik-20120621,0,1025554.story
June 20 2012
IL
You point-they assemble service at restaurant is much like Chipotle
The first time I sunk my teeth into the pork kabobs at Siunik
Armenian Grill, glistened in its rich semi-rendered fat, speckled
with paprika-like dots of Aleppo peppers, it felt both welcomed and
unfamiliar. Something seemed out of place, like discovering cheese
at a Thai restaurant.
The incongruence soon became clear. You never see kabobs (in the Middle
Eastern sense) and pork together, per Halal laws. Whenever I taste
those region-specific flavors - chickpeas, parsley, dates, yogurt - my
mind fills in the blank with lamb or beef. But Armenia, a predominantly
Christian country surrounded on three sides by predominantly Muslim
countries, doesn't observe such dietary restrictions. Its sparingly
spiced food reflects its crossroads Eurasian geography - peripherally
Middle Eastern, Turkish and Eastern European.
I wonder how Siunik Armenian Grill, an 8-month-old operation in
Glenview and Skokie, tackles the uphill task of introducing an
unfamiliar cuisine to reluctant Midwest American palates. They come
at it from several angles.
First, they serve items such as hummus, which is not Armenian, but
seemingly obligatory at Middle Eastern restaurants. So owner Levon
Kirakosyan added hummus to the menu, and his customer base grew.
Next, they hope to frame the cuisine as unintimidating and accessible.
I might have never stopped in Siunik if a friend hadn't described
the restaurant as "an Armenian Chipotle." That statement's about 70
percent accurate. At its Skokie location, all that's missing from
the concrete floor and two-toned wood panels are the funky Mayan wall
sculptures. Warm holding trays are stacked on the glass-partitioned
counter, where service is you-point-and-they-assemble.
Like Chipotle, an entree contains one each of meat, starch, vegetable,
side and sauce, which can be wrapped in a flour tortilla-like
lavosh flatbread, or heaped onto a plate. I'd suggest against the
wrap option here ($5-$5.75). Unfamiliar ingredients should be tasted
individually and not lumped into a haphazard mess. Go with the plate
instead ($7-$9.25), where you can see the vibrancy splayed out -
the Christmas colors of parsley and tomato tabbouleh, or chopped red
onions with the purple, lemony powder of ground sumac.
On my visits, there was one cashier and one cook. Here's where Chipotle
aspiration ends and small business reality begins. A grandmotherly type
tended the grill, rotating stainless steel skewers to order. There
are no grab-and-go meals here. The food arrived when it did, which
was no more than five minutes. I later found out she was Hayastan
Kirakosyan, mother of Levon, who emigrated from Armenia six years
ago and helps at the restaurant.
She developed most of the dishes as a housewife. Levon said he's
proudest of his mother's mushroom pilaf, and I'll second that - cous
cous-like cracked wheat steeped in mushroom and onion broth. Kasha,
too, is a family recipe: steamed buckwheat kernels, nutty and
gluten-free, rooted in Armenia's Eastern European ancestry.
It's a subtle thing, but I appreciate the varied textures on my plate
avoiding one-note mushiness. There's a crunchiness to the cabbage
salad, a crumbly crispness to the honey cake, a gentle give to the
tender grilled meats. The made-in-house yogurt, smooth and tangy on
the intake, provides a cool counterpoint to the hot kabobs. The first
item listed on the menu (which I'd assume to be its proudest offering)
is the lula kabob. It's a first cousin to kefta kabobs, ground beef
formed into cigars that tastes like your nana's onion meatloaf. The
cubed steak and chicken breast kabobs both retained moistness, too,
a minor miracle. (A vegetarian plate of red beans and parsley is also
available, as is a $4.95 weekday lunch special of chicken, steak and
lula kabobs.)
Among dipping sauces, lolik is a spicy marriage of tomato salsa and
ajver, the Balkan red pepper sauce accompanying cevapcici (a second
cousin to lula kabobs). Garmiruk isn't far off from bloody mary mix.
Taken as a whole, a forkful from each corner of the plate, the meal
transports you from the North Shore, though you're not exactly sure
where it takes you. Middle Eastern? Persian Empire? A hint of Soviet?
I found it filling and exotically ambiguous.
Siunik Armenian Grill
1707 Chestnut Ave., Glenview, 847-724-7800 and 4839 Oakton St.,
Skokie, 847-329-4200
Open: 11 a.m.-8 p.m. Monday-Saturday; 11 a.m.-7:30 p.m. Sunday. Credit
cards accepted, though cash preferred. Most expensive entree item
is $9.25
Recommended: Pork kabob, combo plate, mushroom pilaf, hamov (sauteed
eggplant), honey cake