Vous pensez qu'il y a une erreur sur ce lieu ?
Signaler une erreur
Vos retours sont importants pour nous. Si vous avez remarqué une erreur concernant ce lieu, merci de nous en informer pour que nous puissions la corriger.
Propriétaire de ce lieu ?
Nous récupérons automatiquement les informations disponibles sur votre lieu. Si jamais celles-ci ne sont pas correctes, connectez-vous gratuitement sur notre tableau de bord pour les modifier et bonus, accédez à vos statistiques détaillées.
Ce qu'en disent les utilisateurs
Approuvé par 1 partenaires officiels
Autres lieux à voir autour
"Heidi - “best pistachio cinnamon rolls”"
@kendink
"taverna palestinese, cucina tipica e familiare. locale fresco e colorato"
@alessandramariano95
"Bon Appetit best new restaurants 2022. Try hummus; beef kebab; falafel sandwich; baklava"
@mikeya
"Best new in US. I didn’t know a thing about the Kamal family when I stepped through the doors of Baba’s Pantry, a Palestinian American café in Kansas City, Missouri. And I didn’t know much more about them when I stepped out through those doors an hour later, deliriously full, blinking in the Midwestern sun. What I did know was that the hummus I had just eaten—rich and velvet-smooth, topped with a luscious mound of aromatic shaved beef and lamb—was perhaps the best I’d ever had. Everything else I learned later. I came to know, for instance, that the ebullient moustached man who emerged from the kitchen to answer a question I had about the homemade preserved lemons being sold by the jar was Yahia Kamal—“Baba” to his children and just about anyone who knows him—the patriarch of the family. I learned that he has run a number of different food businesses since he immigrated to America from Palestine in 1979, but that this was the first restaurant he had ever called his own and the first time he had declared his business to be proudly Palestinian. I also learned that the warm, soft-spoken person working the counter that day was Kamal Kamal, Baba’s oldest son, an interior designer who transformed the humble storefront into a deeply personal space that honored both his family’s Palestinian homeland and their life in the diaspora. And that he was in town from New York, covering shifts for his younger brother, Omar Kamal, who left his job at Apple to help his father realize his dream. And while I didn’t know any of these things the day I first dined in that light-filled Kansas City café, I swear that I felt this deep familial consonance in some ineffable way—the whole place vibrated with it. I felt it when Yusra, Baba’s wife, brought me a crystal thimble of thick coffee and a slice of sticky baklava; when I saw the antique radios in the window, what I now know to be an homage to Baba’s father, who collected them for years; when I had that first bite of falafel, crisp as potato chips and fragrant with herbs, Baba’s pride and joy. I’m glad I know more about the Kamal family now—glad you do too. But trust me when I say: The hummus would’ve been enough."
@