Layla's Lowly Lebanese Restaurant

Hungry and cold, my girlfriend and I wandered east on King Street looking for a restaurant where we could recharge and dine. We happened upon Layla’s, a Lebanese restaurant on the corner of King and Alfred. Having never eaten Lebanese food, and my girlfriend being an advocate, I decided to give it a go. Big Mistake.

The red neon sign reading “open” should have been a harbinger. It is the type of marketing practiced by gas stations aimed at getting the attention of night-weary passer-bys. Little did I know, that by the end of my meal, I would be craving a pre-made sandwich from the Exxon station. Layla’s was THAT satisfying. Please don't mistake my negativity for naivete. Because although it was my first Lebanese experience, my girlfriend assured me that it was also the worst meal she has ever tasted.

As you walk into Layla’s, there is a small bar to the right--besieged by putrid yellow pastel walls. Since my visit I have made it a point to glance in when I pass (because I am dumbfounded as to why anyone eats there) and the bar is usually occupied by one or two unkempt patrons watching television and chain-smoking. The walls are complemented by the tacky purple curtains separating the bar area from the dining room (whose walls are decorated in a slightly more tolerable orange).

The décor isn’t even the problem at Layla’s—it’s the food. We ate only an appetizer, unable to stomach the thought of an entrée. We ordered “Layla’s Special Appetizer Platter” thinking it would provide enough of a variety to enable me to learn more about Lebanese food. The platter consisted of Hommos (dip made from chickpeas), Baba Ghannouj (dip made from eggplant), Tabouleh (chopped parsley, crushed wheat, tomatoes and onions), Grape Leaves (vine leaves stuffed with rice and parsley), Spinach Pies (bread dough turnovers with chopped spinach leaves), and Falafel (deep-fried chickpea patties).

The platter looked and tasted as though it had been sitting out for a week. The Falafel was so dry that it had the consistency of hockey pucks. The Grape Leaves had no taste whatsoever and looked like they had been rolled on the floor. The Hommos, a dipping paste that I usually enjoy, had a soupy consistency and was bland. The Spinach Pies were not terrible, but after having tried the other “un-appetizers” I couldn’t even eat them. My girlfriend and I, embarrassed at not even denting the stale mess in front of us, took to hiding the appetizers in the Baba Ghannouj so as to make it appear to the waitress that we had eaten.

I hope that our visit was an anomaly, and that the waitress accidentally served a platter from the prior evening. Perhaps their entrees are better than their appetizers. And maybe I am giving Layla’s an unfair rap. But I won't get the chance to find out as I will never eat there again.