The worlds of Syrian cuisine and French baking are not often intertwined, but the so aptly named Exotic Bakeries and Syrian Cuisine proves that this combination can stimulate the pleasure receptors of most every taste bud residing in a college student’s mouth.  Often overlooked, this walk-in sandwich and dessert shop has subsisted for almost 20 years under the masterful guise of Jinan Elkhatib and his wife Monib.  Through providing enormous portions teeming with overwhelming quality, this couple has captured the hearts of savvy Ann Arbor foodies for years.

Located in the plaza at the intersection of Murfin and Plymouth Road, just beyond North Campus, Exotic Bakeries and Syrian Cuisine is a positive island among the sea of negatives that is North Campus living.  For $6-10, a guest can receive any permutation of sandwiches or combos involving shawarma, kafta, tabbouli, hommous, kibbee, and all the other Middle-Eastern favorites that make its cuisine so delectable.  Jinan or his wife will assemble the food right in front of you, heaping on enough tantalizing ingredients to make you wonder why you would ever spend $7 on a Panchero’s burrito again.

I ordered a chicken shawarma sandwich, which was approximately the size of my upper arm, but much tastier.  The high quality pita and freshly shaven chicken were appetizing, but it was the satisfyingly strong garlic sauce that separated the sandwich from its counterparts at Pita Pita or Palm Palace (and subsequently ruined my chances with the opposite sex for the next few days).  My skeptical Lebanese friend ordered kafta (spiced meat), hommous, tabbouli, and a pastry filled with meat, cheese, onions and Syrian spices.  While he pronounced the kafta as “a little dry”, he admitted that was in comparison to his grandmother’s homemade version.  And I, as may many of you, find the “slightly-less-than-grandmother” quality to still be impressive.  Anyways, once we slathered the kafta and the meat pie in hommous (it really makes everything in life better) and combined them with the tabbouli in pita, all criticisms quickly disappeared at the same rate as the food.

Drunken with the joy of a Damascuan we stumbled back inside and took Jinan’s recommendation in ordering a homemade raspberry truffle and an almond-pear pastry, which were only two of the diverse and unique fruit-based dessert choices available.  (On a side note, Jinan spends all day in relative isolation at this hideaway, and thus is exceedingly amiable to any customer stepping into his realm.  After one meal there, I’m fairly certain that I could show up at his family reunion and be welcomed with open arms and baba ghannouj.)  The truffle had the consistency of an ultra-rich, creamy brownie with an amazing berry aftertaste to boot.  While I was leery about the almond/pear combination, it tasted as though I was in a true Paris boulangerie, with the sweet and flaky crust cradling the tenuous concoction that danced across the tongue.  We realized that while the homemade Syrian food was undoubtedly worthwhile, it was the exemplary desserts that push this little shop into the rarified pantheon of hidden places every student must visit. 
 
Mmm…Assorted Truffles.