An elegant dark red midi dress.
That is not something I usually anticipate at a restaurant. Yet, that was the first thing I saw as soon as I entered Ammoora. I still don’t know why the waitress at the counter was wearing that flamboyant outfit unlike any of the other servers who wore “normal” formal uniforms. Nevertheless, the dress was exactly what my experience at Ammoora felt like. Unexpected and different, but charming.
The restaurant is divided into several dining spaces with different interiors, each designed differently but stunning alike. My friend and I were led to the Courtyard: a vibrant space with high ceilings located at the end of the restaurant. It felt like a series of museums with ample care put into curating each room. Our seat was right next to a small fountain that reminded me of a royal garden.
Listed in the New York Times’ best restaurants of 2024, Ammoora offers a wide range of Syrian dishes, from spreads to hot and cold mezze. Our server was warm, inviting and, most importantly, gave ample time for my friend and I — both new to Syrian cuisine — to study the menu.
Hummus arrived shortly after we ordered, served with four pieces of complimentary pita. One scoop of the spread, and I immediately became furious at every hummus I bought from Giant and Whole Foods in the past — or were they real hummus after all?
Ammoora’s hummus is exemplary with a smooth, consistent texture and nutty, tangy flavor. The experience was elevated by roasted brussels sprouts boasting caramelized, crispy leaves. The pita was soft and delightful when served warm but soon became unpleasantly stiff and cold.
COURTESY OF AIMEE CHO
Ammoora makes its hummus with ordinary ingredients — chickpea puree, tahini, lemon, olive oil and sesame seeds — but the flavors are extraordinary.
As a stranger to kebabs, I was somewhat nervous to meet Shish Tawouk and Kebab Antabli. Shish Tawouk — the chicken kebab — was surprisingly welcoming. Already cut into small cubes, each piece was simple but cooked to perfection, preserving the tender and juicy interior.
Kebab Antabli was composed of minced lamb, onion, parsley and Aleppo Turkish chili pepper mixed and shaped into a long and wavy form. As soon as I took a bite, I felt the instant rush of rich aromatic flavor. My friend looked at me with widened eyes, praising the perfect blend of spices before she dipped another kebab into the yogurt cucumber cacik sauce. I preferred it without the sauce as a longstanding anti-cucumber advocate.
However, not everyone can be the star of the show. Both kebabs were accompanied by saffron rice topped with pomegranate seeds and grilled peppers and onions on a skewer. Not bad to have on the side, but not essential either. The Arugula and Mint Salad on Halloumi was true to its name. Maybe too true, because I could make it at home by placing arugula, roasted cherry tomatoes and a slice of halloumi on a plate with some vinegar. At best, its role was to make other dishes shine more.
The visual of the Dubai Chocolate Crunch Bar was very unimpressive; it looked like a rectangular avocado. We agreed that the Syrian Yogurt Parfait looked much more appealing. But, as old wisdom says, never judge a book by its cover. The Dubai Chocolate Crunch Bar was crunchy (obviously), creamy, buttery and sweet. Both the pistachio and chocolate flavors hit the marks. The parfait was confusing — I am still unsure how the mushy texture, aromatic cream and hint of citron were supposed to blend.
Though some question marks may come up, the experience at Ammoora was predominantly filled with exclamation marks. It’s those one-of-a-kind experiences where your eyes and tongue both feel joy.
If you’re just looking to grab a bite, Baltimore has plenty of options. But if you’re after something more — a refined atmosphere, dishes you don’t come across every day and that thrill of culinary discovery — Ammoora might just be what you’re looking for.
