The chef's unique perspective makes a meal here not just a meal; it is, as noted on the menu, "A Journey Through Levantine Cooking." You don't just leave the restaurant with a full stomach; you leave with a newfound knowledge of Arabic food terminology (a glossary accompanies your menu, minimizing dinner table Googling) and a new appreciation of Mediterranean wines (thanks to GM/Wine Director William Simons' impressive collection).
After properly hydrating, it was time to dig into the star of the show-the Pita. Charred, puffed, and seasoned to perfection, it was still piping hot enough for a za'atar-scented steam facial as I tore into it. You can't have Levantine cooking without lamb (or hummus, for that matter), and the tomato-enriched Smoked Lamb Awarma did not disappoint. Nor did the Baba Ganoush, an artistic wreath of thinly shaved zucchini, yellow squash, and charred cherry tomatoes hiding two distinct layers of burnt eggplant puree underneath. The pita was delicious on its own, but somehow even better as a vehicle for these spreads.
Dishes like crab hummus and crab dolmas serve as thoughtful nods to the local region's cuisine and an homage to Chef Rafidi's Maryland upbringing. In the case of the dolmas, I wanted the crab to have a more prominent role within the grape leaf filling itself, rather than simply topping it as a garnish. Nevertheless, I'm always happy to have crab on my plate, and I appreciated its appearance on the menu.
Potatoes are a versatile ingredient, but transforming a humble potato into a Michelin-worthy glow-up is an accomplishment. The Batata Harra, meticulously shingled potato slices, are crisped and generously seasoned with shawarma spices that permeate from the outside in, creating a spice ombré both in flavor and color. For the spice-averse, stick to the innermost pieces; for those craving a kick, the outermost slices boast more heat. A generous dollop of "toum," essentially a garlic aioli, provides cooling relief.
Chef Rafidi breathes new life into the classic duck-cherry pairing. The Spiced Duck Breast Shish arrives at the table still skewered straight from the hearth. The server gracefully slides the duck pieces off the skewer and onto the plate in perfect succession, landing atop a bed of charred fava and romano beans. A smoked cherry honey, tinted pink from its fruit infusion, coats the plate. Halved cherries dot the dish, their sweetness cutting through the earthy char of the duck and beans.
I couldn't leave without trying dessert-particularly the Brown Butter Knafeh, a Middle Eastern spun pastry soaked in syrup, stuffed with cheese, and topped with blackberries, vanilla ice cream, and crumbled pistachios. It is a party of textures, all coinciding to form a balanced, exotic dessert that transports diners to another part of the world. If you're too full for this larger dessert, I'd recommend the "small bites." The assortment includes two pieces each of cinnamon/walnut baklawa, Turkish delights (strawberry rose jellies), and ma'amoul (chocolate/date cookies).
Like the food, the service at Albi is impeccable. Water glasses are constantly refilled, and finished plates are removed immediately. When you return from the restroom, you find an entirely new, perfectly folded napkin has appeared seemingly out of nowhere. New plates and utensils are provided between courses, and servers offer a warm towel to wipe your hands.
The majority of the space is open, with just one other seating area for larger private parties, plus another section within the kitchen devoted to their "Chef's Table at the Hearth"-a separate, 2.5-hour dining experience. But even those not splurging on this experience still get a clear view into the kitchen. The restaurant is not huge, but tables do not feel cramped. Although the floor is a minimalistic concrete, a series of mismatching, vintage rugs anchor tables, providing a cozy contrast to the otherwise industrial space, complete with high ceilings, natural light, greenery, bright murals, and modern light fixtures. The one drawback of the space: noise level. While the restaurant was by no means "sports bar loud," it was certainly not the quietest of meals, and, at times, it was difficult to hear the waitstaff as they explained dishes.
There's no shortage of Mediterranean fare in the D.C. area these days, but Albi rises above the competition, showcasing elevated, refined Levantine cuisine paired with top-notch hospitality--all in a casual-yet-sleek space that will make you want to linger and grab another drink (or perhaps a Tahini Soft Serve). Starting July 12, Albi will be transitioning to just offering a Sofra ("set table") menu. Although $95 per person is on the steep side, it's only slightly more than what I spent going the a la carte route (note that diners will be able to continue ordering a la carte at the bar). For a special occasion, consider booking the Hearth Table, which runs $150 per person (excluding the wine pairing option). read more