Imad’s Syrian Kitchen

Last Updated on March 1, 2026

A love letter from Damascus to London

Imad’s Syrian Kitchen (HQ) is no ordinary cookbook in the way that the restaurant of the same name is no ordinary eatery. Situated in Kingsley Court, Carnaby Street, the restaurant is in the heart of vibrant London, where counter-culture has been the rage for decades. Kingsley Court boasts a number of ethnic restaurants, some so popular that tables need to be booked weeks ahead. I went to eat at Imad’s Syrian Kitchen mostly because I wanted to support the restaurateur who moved to London, but not out of the desire to travel the world. Imad Alarnab is a refugee whose courage and fortitude have enabled him to set up a new life in the UK. Where once he served food to diners in his three restaurants plus juice bars and cafes in Damascus, he now does so in London.  His newly published cookbook, subtitled a love letter from Damascus to London, tells his story.

Imad tells in his introduction that he always took his life for granted – as we all tend to do – until it was taken from him. His life in Damascus was successful; he had three restaurants as well as juice bars and cafes, and he and his wife were parents to three young daughters. Suddenly, his life was changed forever by forces outside his control, and he became a refugee, an illegal immigrant. It is hard to imagine that had he arrived nowadays in the UK, Imad might have found himself on a barge in a port of Devon. Imad sets out his argument on the opening page and it is important for readers to consider. Refugees flee because their lives are in danger, not to take advantage of the resources of other countries. Their lives are further imperilled by the lack of safe routes for refugees who become reliant on people smugglers to get to a place of safety. In doing so, their lives are in great danger in the back of trucks, on small boats. Most of all, what refugees want is to recreate a life for themselves, and thereby, make a contribution to the new country they find themselves in. Imad left Syria in 2015, leaving his wife and daughters behind. He headed for the UK, as this is where he had relatives, and he was already an English speaker. He wants his story to be known, to be an encouragement to other refugees as to what can be achieved. But he also wants people to understand the hardship of leaving one’s life behind, fearing one will never see one’s family again, and then, when reunited, as he was with his, to begin a life from scratch. This can only happen if refugees are welcomed and supported to contribute to our society.

After a stint as an illegal carwasher and then a legal carwasher and seller of second-hand cars, Imad eventually was assisted by a woman called Toni, who suggested he might want to join Cook For Syria, which helped raise money for UNICEF’s Children in Syria fund. From here, a pop-up began in his home and then in a restaurant in East London. Tickets sold out quickly, and a catering business grew. In early 2020, his friend, Asma Khan, chef and owner of Darjeeling Express – based again in Kingsley Court – informed him that a space had opened up. In 2021, Imad’s Syrian Kitchen opened its doors. This was a very long way from the food Imad cooked on a hot plate in Calais, where, during his 64 days living in the refugee camp, he cooked for some 400 people a day.  The opportunity to cook in Calais gave him back his faith in humanity and restored him to himself.

Imad writes movingly about what he personally witnessed on the streets of Syria, and the moment when his apartment was hit by a bomb, his eldest daughter narrowly escaped death, an event so shocking that he and his wife still cannot discuss it. Soon, all his businesses were destroyed too, and all they still had were their lives. In a taxi to a safer part of the city, his family were caught up in a massive bombing, and he was certain they were dead. In running towards the bomb – he was attempting to find the taxi where he expected to find his slaughtered family – he raised the suspicion of the security forces, who arrested him on suspicion of being the bomber. He was beaten very badly and was saved only by a neighbour who intervened as he lay bleeding and broken on the ground. Unsurprisingly, Imad still experiences the aftereffects of this trauma both physically and psychologically.

Imad’s Syrian Kitchen is divided into chapters, which are interspersed with further details about Imad’s journey to the UK as well as information about Syrian cuisine. Amidst the recipes are essays about his love of Damascus, his love for his wife and daughters, and a moving piece about his beloved mother who died shortly after he left Damascus.

Imad’s Syrian Kitchen is part recipe book, part human story about how a successful businessman found himself fleeing for his life, crossing 10 countries, and turned by necessity into an illegal immigrant in the UK. By some turns of good fortune and enormous resilience, he rebuilt his life and that of his family, and opened an excellent restaurant where diners can enjoy his Syrian menu. Now, readers can try out some of the recipes at home too, which will take you from a range of marvellous meze and salads, through mains and onto dessert.  The book is worth buying simply to read Imad’s story and to understand more about his terrifying journey from Damascus to London, to think about holding those we love close and to take nothing in life for granted, but to be grateful for every privilege we enjoy. Then cook some of Imad’s life-enhancing food.

I began with one of my all-time favourites – roast cauliflower. I try every new recipe I come across for this dish, having first discovered it at Miznon in Paris many moons ago. Since then, I have eaten a field full of roast cauliflower in every permutation and didn’t really need anymore. However, I have to say that Imad’s recipe – zahraa harra – is absolutely fabulous. It is a perfect balance of mildly and aromatically spicy with a sweetness from the romano peppers, red onions and tomato paste. I nearly ate a whole cauliflower on my own and was stopped in my tracks only by the thought of the indigestion that might follow. I’d buy the book for this recipe alone. It was so good that I made it twice in one week.

While the cauli roasted, I made shurabat ends (red lentil soup). An odd choice, you might think, for mid-summer, but since London is having a dismal few weeks of rain, I am wearing my fleece and happily eating hot soup. I simply adore soup, and no day is too hot to eat a bowl in my view. Next, I made a vegan moussaka. I never make moussaka the traditional way because I don’t often cook meat at home, and the required béchamel sauce is a faff, but this was a Syrian moussaka, which is much less work, and I put it together with ease in my lunch hour. This was served with sahan khudra, otherwise known as the green plate – Turkish green peppers, onion, herbs, spring onion and so on. The idea is that you help yourself to items from the green plate while eating your meal.

I served the moussaka as suggested with mujadara. I have often made this dish, but usually with rice and lentils rather than bulgar and lentils as specified in Imad’s recipe. This made for a very good texture, and the spicing with baharat and mild curry powder was excellent, as were the crispy onions strewn over the top. I whipped up the recipe for laban bikhiar (yoghurt salad) – Greek yoghurt topped with grated cucumber, mint, garlic and lemon – which is served with the mujadara.

Lastly, I made jirjir (rocket salad), a gorgeously refreshing mix of watermelon, halloumi and rocket. I would usually make such a dish with feta, so I was intrigued to see how it would be with halloumi. This was another recipe I ended up making twice in a week. The second occasion was for a dinner I was hosting for family, and I served it as a starter. I doubled the quantity as we were 8 people, and the salad disappeared in a flash. You can find the recipe below. It is one I plan to use repeatedly over the summer.

You can buy Imad’s Syrian Kitchen from his website, good bookstores, and Amazon.

The restaurant is on the top floor, Kingly Court, Carnaby St, London W1B 5PW/