Back off, chocolate hummus: These are the proper Lebanese recipes you should be cooking [ The Independent] (Copy)

BY PRUDENCE WADE, THE INDEPENDENT

PUBLISHED 30th March 2026

Chocolate hummus, beetroot falafel – somewhere along the way, things have drifted. Chef Jad Youssef isn’t having it. These recipes, from his new book ‘Lebnani’, get back to the point: simple, proper, and exactly as they should be. With dishes like chocolate hummus and sweet potato falafel sweeping social media, chef Jad Youssef says he’s concerned that “Lebanese food is losing its identity”.

Lebanon-born Youssef moved from his home country in 1999 and has lived and worked all over the world – including Oslo, Hong Kong and now Surrey, where he runs his restaurant Lebnani.

Before establishing Lebnani, he says: “I started to feel like Lebanese food was losing its identity – not only in the UK, but in Europe and even in Lebanon.

“Sometimes I watch influencers – not chefs or authors of cookbooks, but influencers – trying to make meat shawarma with halloumi.”

Youssef accompanies this statement with a half-joking eye roll, continuing: “When you say shawarma or donor, it’s meat. Or when you say falafel – we know what falafel is, it’s fried, so it’s crispy on the outside, nice and fluffy on the inside, with a nice whipped tahini cream. But now you see baked falafel, or falafel with sweet potato, or falafel with beetroot.”

These “twists” on classic recipes are to “fit the Western palate”, Youssef suggests, adding: “It doesn’t make me angry, but makes me sad.”

That’s why Youssef set up his own restaurant, and is now releasing his debut cookbook, also called Lebnani – which means to be Lebanese.

“I want to focus on the classics and tradition, and make them the right way – how we do it back home, how my mum used to do it, and my aunties, and now my sisters,” he explains.

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A cookbook rooted in memory, not trends, and unapologetic about doing things properly (Meze)

In the cookbook, there are traditional recipes for everything from hummus and kafta (meat skewers) to falafel and tabbouleh – and you can be sure his recipe for knefe, a sweet dish made with warm cheese, pastry and orange blossom, absolutely does not contain corn flakes (yes, that is something he’s seen an influencer do online).

“It’s [enough] to drive you mad, what these people are doing,” he says. “OK, it’s good to be creative – but don’t ruin the tradition and the beauty of these nice dishes. We were all born with it and live with it. Each time I go back home, I only ask for those classic dishes to eat – that’s what I want, because I miss them.”

Lebanese food has gone global, but what do people tend to get wrong about it?

“I think when you say Lebanese, [people] straight away get an image that it’s mezze and grill only, but there’s a lot behind it,” Youssef says.

“It’s not only hummus or a tabbouleh salad, or falafel or kafta. We have over 200 dishes of mezze between vegan, vegetarian and meat, and they’re quite seasonal as well.”

That’s why the book also contains some lesser-known dishes that are staples in any Lebanese home, like fraké nayyé – a southern-style spiced lamb tartare, usually eaten in springtime with fresh warm bread and a glass of arak.

There’s also hindbeh b’zeit – a dish of sautéed wild dandelion greens with caramelised onions – and baba ghanouj, but not as people might know it. When you order baba ghanouj at a restaurant, more often than not you’ll get a smoked aubergine dip with tahini – but that, according to Youssef, is not actually baba ghanouj, but something called mtabbal.

“Baba ghanouj, it’s charred aubergine with vegetables inside it – so it has garlic, chopped parsley, spring onion, fresh mint, lemon juice and olive oil – no tahini.”

Born in 1977, two years after the Lebanese Civil War started, Youssef admits that war shaped his family’s approach to food. He suggests food was a uniting force amongst turmoil, saying: “Whatever happens, we still sit around the table and we’re going to eat.”

As the youngest of six siblings, Youssef says his older brothers and sisters were all encouraged by their parents to leave the country to “go somewhere safe”.

With the majority of his siblings studying or working out of Lebanon, it was down to Youssef to help his parents. He helped his mother with all the cooking at home, while also lending a hand at his father’s pastry shop in Beirut.

Youssef, who says he was part of “the war generation”, remembers months at a time when school would be cancelled, meaning he would accompany his mother to the market every day to help pick out ingredients for meals. This “opened my eyes” to food, he says, learning from his mum how to pick the best tomatoes, or what to look for at the butchers.

“This is where I learned about how to choose,” he says. “To work with good ingredients, good spices, good olive oil… I was born surrounded by food.”

Youssef says it was inevitable he would become a chef: “I had no chance,” he laughs. “Lebanese people, they love food, they have a passion for food.

“I go home, and in the morning, I wake up, I take a coffee, and my mum asks me, ‘So, what do you want to have for breakfast?’ Then breakfast finishes, and [my mother and my sister] are talking about what they’re going to cook for lunch. After lunch – [then what’s] for dinner…

“It’s absolutely constant.”

Stuffed Lebanese pancakes with fresh clotted cream and orange blossom syrup

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No shortcuts, no swaps, just the kind of dish that tastes like it should (Matt Lincoln)

“Atayef were always a treat we looked forward to – especially around Ramadan or on Sunday afternoons when visitors dropped by unannounced,” says Youssef.

“The smell of the hot saj (pan) as the batter bubbles and sets, the sight of the ashta filling being spooned in generously, the syrup dripping slowly over the soft folds – it’s simple, sweet Lebanese hospitality in a bite.

“We couldn’t resist pinching some from the tray before they made it to the guests. My mother always knew, but she let us get away with it.”

Serves: 6-8 (makes about 18-20)

Ingredients:

For the syrup:

200g caster sugar

120ml water

1 tbsp lemon juice

1 tbsp rose water

1 tbsp orange blossom water

For the ashta:

1.2L whole milk

4 tbsp white vinegar or lemon juice

1½ tbsp cornflour

1 tbsp caster sugar

1 tbsp rose water

2 tbsp orange blossom water

200g ricotta cheese (optional but recommended)

For the atayef:

300g plain flour

1 tsp dried instant yeast

1 tsp caster sugar

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

Pinch of fine sea salt

100ml whole milk

350-400ml lukewarm water

For the garnish:

80g finely chopped pistachios

1 tbsp rose petal jam

Method:

1. To prepare the syrup: Combine the sugar and water in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil, then add the lemon juice. Lower the heat and simmer for eight to 10 minutes until slightly thickened. Add the rose and orange blossom waters, stir, and then remove from the heat. Cool to room temperature.

2. To prepare the ashta: In a saucepan, bring one litre of the milk to a simmer. Add the vinegar or lemon juice and stir gently until the milk curdles and separates. Strain and discard the whey, keeping the curds. In a clean saucepan, mix the remaining 200 millilitres of milk with the cornflour and sugar. Stir over medium heat until it thickens to a soft custard. Add the rose and orange blossom waters. Now mix the custard with the curds and ricotta (if using). Let the ashta cool completely and chill for at least an hour.

3. To prepare the atayef: In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, yeast, sugar, bicarbonate of soda, and salt. Slowly whisk in the milk and water, adjusting the quantity to get a smooth, pourable batter. Cover and leave to rest for 30-45 minutes until slightly bubbly.

4. Heat a non-stick pan over medium heat. Stir the batter gently and pour or ladle small rounds (about eight centimetres diameter) into the dry pan. Cook on one side without flipping them – bubbles will appear on top, and the surface will set. Set aside on a clean towel and keep covered so they don’t dry out.

5. Place about a spoonful of ashta in the centre of each pancake. Fold them into half-moons and pinch one edge firmly to seal, leaving the other edge open so the cream peeks out.

6. Arrange the atayef on a platter, drizzle with the syrup and sprinkle with crushed pistachios and rose petal jam. Serve immediately or chill lightly before serving.