Siunik Armenian Grill restaurant impressed an American journalist

YEREVAN, JUNE 21, ARMENPRESS: The first time I sunk my teeth into the pork kabobs at Siunik Armenian Grill, glistened in its rich semi-rendered fat, speckled with paprika-like dots of Aleppo peppers, it felt both welcomed and unfamiliar. Something seemed out of place, like discovering cheese at a Thai restaurant, reports Armenpress citing Chicago Tribune. The incongruence soon became clear. You never see kabobs and pork together, per Halal laws. Whenever I taste those region-specific flavors -chickpeas, parsley, dates, yogurt- my mind fills in the blank with lamb or beef. But Armenia, a predominantly Christian country surrounded on three sides by predominantly Muslim countries, doesn't observe such dietary restrictions. Its sparingly spiced food reflects its crossroads Eurasian geography-peripherally Middle Eastern, Turkish and Eastern European. I wonder how Siunik Armenian Grill, an 8-month-old operation in Glenview and Skokie, tackles the uphill task of introducing an unfamiliar cuisine to reluctant Midwest American palates. They come at it from several angles. First, they serve items such as hummus, which is not Armenian, but seemingly obligatory at Middle Eastern restaurants. So owner Levon Kirakosyan added hummus to the menu, and his customer base grew. Next, they hope to frame the cuisine as unintimidating and accessible. I might have never stopped in Siunik if a friend hadn't described the restaurant as ''an Armenian Chipotle'' 'That statement's about 70 percent accurate. At its Skokie location, all that's missing from the concrete floor and two-toned wood panels are the funky Mayan wall sculptures. Warm holding trays are stacked on the glass-partitioned counter, where service is you-point-and-they-assemble. On my visits, there was one cashier and one cook. Here's where Chipotle aspiration ends and small business reality begins. A grandmotherly type tended the grill, rotating stainless steel skewers to order. There are no grab-and-go meals here. The food arrived when it did, which was no more than five minutes. I later found out she was Hayastan Kirakosyan, mother of Levon, who emigrated from Armenia six years ago and helps at the restaurant. She developed most of the dishes as a housewife. Levon said he's proudest of his mother's mushroom pilaf, and I'll second that -cous cous-like cracked wheat steeped in mushroom and onion broth. Kasha, too, is a family recipe: steamed buckwheat kernels, nutty and gluten-free, rooted in Armenia's Eastern European ancestry. It's a subtle thing, but I appreciate the varied textures on my plate avoiding one-note mushiness. There's a crunchiness to the cabbage salad, a crumbly crispness to the honey cake, a gentle give to the tender grilled meats. The made-in-house yogurt, smooth and tangy on the intake, provides a cool counterpoint to the hot kabobs. The first item listed on the menu is the lula kabob. It's a first cousin to kefta kabobs, ground beef formed into cigars that tastes like your nana's onion meatloaf. The cubed steak and chicken breast kabobs both retained moistness, too, a minor miracle.