Olive Eats Is All About Freshness and a Love of Good Food

Before you even take a bite, there are lots of little hints that a restaurant is going to be good.

I was optimistic when I walked through the door and heard the radio at Olive Eats playing the song “Ana La Habibi” (“I Am For My Beloved”) by famous Lebanese singer Fairuz, one of my favorite Middle Eastern
vocalists.

“She is the lady of Lebanon,” says Olive Eats’ Kuwaiti-born owner and chef Emad Al-Masri. 

But the music wasn’t the only tell that Olive Eats, a Mediterranean joint that opened in a strip center on the North Trail, across the street from the Ringling College of Art and Design, was going to be authentic Middle Eastern food. The black tea was served loose leaf and blended with Al-Masri’s personal stash of sage. “This is my special blend I drink myself,” he says. The pita bread was served with a small bowl of quality olive oil with freshly chopped—and I mean straight from the kitchen knife to the table—kalamata olives.

And then there was the hummus ($10). This is not the stuff you get in little plastic containers from the grocery store.  At Olive Eats, the hummus is creamy perfection with a mild, nutty sweetness. “I use dry garbanzo,” Al-Masri says. “Never, ever, from the can.” Canned garbanzo beans are slightly bitter, he says, and the consistency is off. Al-Masri makes his from scratch every two or three days—just garbanzo beans, tahini (only the expensive Lebanon Valley brand of tahini will do), lemon and garlic.

“I soak the dry beans overnight,” he says. “I don’t use a lot of tahini, and I use just a little bit of garlic. Some people, they put in a lot of garlic. Too much! I just put in one clove per batch. And then a little salt and white pepper. Not black pepper, because you can see it in the hummus. When it starts boiling, you put in half a teaspoon of baking soda to take away the yellow color and make it cook faster and boil it for two hours.”

This is not Al-Masri’s first restaurant. He has spent more than 25 years in the hospitality world, running his own restaurants in Kuwait, Ohio and Florida. He’s moved frequently because of his wife’s career in academia. Sarasota is their latest home, and Al-Masri says this will be his final restaurant.

Perhaps. His son, Adam Al-Masri, who occasionally helps his dad in the restaurant, told me his father did try to retire once but he is one of those people with a high motor (and a booming voice) that has to be working. In conversation, Al-Masri jumps from explaining how you have to turn off the fan when you make baklava to prevent the filo dough from drying out to how New Zealand salmon is superior to Atlantic because it leaves your knife greasy after you cut it. “The more fat, the better,” he says. Al-Masri credits his mother for his love of food. “My mom’s an amazing cook,” Al-Masri says. “I would just watch her cook all the time.”

His latest restaurant is a cozy nook with 21 seats indoors and an outdoor patio with 22 seats. The kitchen is even more modest than the seating, and yet, Al-Masri manages to make all of his food from scratch with a freshness and flavor that started packing the place with customers as soon as it opened. The menu is lean, which means the food is fresh. Someone could easily make their way through all the offerings eating dinner there for a week.

Everything is moderately priced. The best bang for your buck is a bowl of the lentil soup ($7). Al-Masri recreated the soup from his childhood and uses more spices than we have space to mention. But you won’t go wrong with anything on the menu. It’s hard not to order the lamb burger ($18), and to call it a burger is to do it a disservice. The lamb is perfectly seasoned with cinnamon, salt, pepper and his special spice blend, and it’s juicy. It comes between two pieces of Turkish bread with feta and caramelized onions. On the side are fresh-cut fries seasoned with Cajun spices, salt and pepper, or pita chips topped with sumac, za’atar and olive oil.

The tabbouleh ($11) is prepared fresh, not sitting in a huge container in a fridge waiting to be scooped out; he makes it when you order. The tender beef kabob ($22) comes on top of flavored basmati rice spiced with cardamom and roasted veggies. Al-Masri’s baklava ($7)—he makes it by hand twice a week—is crispy and golden, filled with ground pistachios and walnuts. He often comes out from the kitchen to show diners a tray of the day’s batch.

Olive Eats doesn’t serve beer or wine, but you can bring your own free of charge. Al-Masri also makes special orders, like a whole lamb over rice, and a lamb shank where the meat falls right off the bone. You can bet the farm it’ll be good. 

Olive Eats | 2801 N. Tamiami Trail, Sarasota, (941) 413-5947, oliveeatssrq.com