There are figures in the jumbled jungle that is the Melbourne hospitality scene that seek out attention. It’s possible to make your name with smoke, mirrors and bullshit, but in the end, restaurants are a democracy. Only the strong survive, and the ones who live the work and create food and experiences true to their own vision of love and nourishment are the ones who make a lasting, meaningful name for themselves. Joseph Abboud is one of these people.
In opening Rumi in 2006 on Brunswick’s Sydney Road, Joseph and wife Nat birthed unto our city a restaurant of deep importance. Imbued with the flavours and sentimentality of the Middle Eastern community who makes Sydney Road great, Rumi became an young institution, the sort of restaurant beholden unto its own success, owing to the amount of signature dishes Abboud has created over the years. The impossible-not-to-order cheese cigars. The addictive flame kissed chicken wings with Aleppo pepper. The braised lamb shoulder with mint sauce, a sort of dining rite of passage for Melburnians. But most famous of all, the dish that launched Rumi from local buzzy favourite to Melbourne institution: the quail that Anthony Bourdain ate.
Immortalised in a 2009 episode of No Reservations, the quail elicited such effusive praise from the sadly departed Bourdain that Rumi’s status as a must visit Melbourne destination was secured. To revisit the episode now is to be reminded of a simpler time; a sweaty, cravat clad Matt Preston leading Bourdain along Sydney road, feasting on lahmancun at A1 and kebabs of dubious provenance from a carwash food truck, the amusing sight of Bourdain, perhaps the most influential food identity ever, drinking a Sunkist in the warm matte light of a Brunswick afternoon. My relationship with Rumi started here, and continued across celebrations and special occasions over the last two decades.
Abboud expanded, his Lebanese pizza brand Moor’s Head continuing in Thornbury, the Carlton location now no longer trading, the Glen Huntly iteration sold in 2015. In 2018 Abboud expanded to the CBD, opening the beloved Bar Saracen, giving future Hummus sex symbol Tom Sarafian a platform. A COVID casualty, Saracen closed in 2021, but as Rumi celebrated its 15th year, the outlook for its future seemed similarly grim. In a June 2021 interview with Dani Valent, Abboud spoke candidly about the challenges of pandemic era trade. Staffing challenges meant his children were helping him in the kitchen, Nat Abboud working the floor. A way out seemed too distant to comprehend, and the very real possibility that Rumi was unsustainable was crossing Abboud’s mind, a thought that no doubt crossed the mind of every owner/operator in our city during this period.
To the surprise of no one, the Abbouds had what it took to survive the hard times. Not only did Rumi outlast pandemic restrictions and the dining hesitancy of post lockdown Melbourne, it flourished, the restaurant recently moving to the brand new East Brunswick Village development on Nicholson Street. This past November, Joseph authoured his first cookbook, Rumi: Food of Middle Eastern Appearance. It has been a time of rebirth for the Rumi brand, the next chapter in a beloved institution’s history bringing with it new opportunity. When it became clear that a vacant site adjacent to Rumi’s new digs was available, the logical step of opening a more casual eatery and wine bar began to crystallise. That site, now called The Rocket Society (named for a 2012 documentary about Lebanon’s attempts to enter the space race) is where I find myself lunching in the warm matte light of a Brunswick afternoon.
The Rocket Society operates in a snug corner site in the EBV development. Comprising a small amount of outdoor tables, one long wooden communal table, and a few plush banquette benches, it has large, open windows that make the space feel light and inviting. The venue’s branding is sharp and original; so too is the updated logo and design aesthetics of the new Rumi, which lends an air of modernity to Abboud’s mainly traditional cuisine. The bar is stocked with all manner of delights, with an arak selection and an impressive by the glass list, but today we are not imbibing, and opt instead for a gazoz, or Turkish lemonade. It’s deeply sour; I’m salivating as I drink it, salved by a sweet, rosewater-accented finish. It’s hard to imagine a more refreshing Summer beverage.
When in Beirut, do as the Beirutians do. We double up on hummus; one served surrounding a pool of warm red-butterd braised beans, the other dressed in verdant, tingling zhoug. To those unfamiliar with zhoug, a sort of spicy Yemeni salsa verde, it pains me ro report to you that you are in fact living but half a life, and shall only truly experience the heights of the human experience when you have eaten it. Both are sublime, sturdy and subtly flavoured with the sort of tongue-clacking consistency that only expertly made hummus affords.
Served alongside a light salad of pickles and parsley, deeply dark crunchy falafels, fresh from the fryer, crack pleasingly under tooth. They give way to a pillowy, aromatic filling, the smell of freshly ground coriander seed filling the air, and particularly effective when smeared with the zhoug-laced hummus and eaten between shreds of fresh pita. A light salad of yoghurt dressed smashed cucumbers and dried mint helps proceedings along accordingly.
The star of the show are the “sondwishe”, Rocket’s signature pita wraps, also available to takeaway. We opt for the batata, a pita layered with fried hot chips, pungent garlic toum, and pickles. It is magnificent, the sort of thing that should be administered in emergency situations to those too drunk to adhere to their own virtues, like some sort of restorative decency injection. The toum almost overhwhelms, the pickles gently helping the dish back off the ledge and into the realm of addictive salty snack. They are, unfortunately, pitifully small, ours about the size of a small zucchini and barely lasting 4 bites. While the $8 menu price is definitely attractive, I’d suggest Rocket is better off making these more substantial and charging more, particularly if they are to become a viable takeaway option. The people of Brunswick should flock for Abboud-approved wraps, but are unlikely to return if they remain snack size.
At night, Rocket’s menu expands to feature more substantial dishes. The PM menu looks deeply enticing, and I can’t wait to return to check it out; BBQ’d lamb and sweetbread skewers with carob molasses, and a fried barramundi wing with “toum-tare” sauce in particular piqued my interest. This sharp, ergonomic spot should thrive once the East Brunswick Village precinct hits high gear. The forthcoming FOMO Cinemas, a take on the Alamo Drafthouse-style in cinema dining concept by the Cinema Nova team, should prove a massive drawcard for the area. So too the millennial baiting 1-2 punch of a new Blackhearts & Sparrows bottle shop and a branch of Hagen’s organic butcher. Down the way, Beechworth’s Bridge Road Brewers are already up and running, offering locals a watering hole for pre-movie beers. It’s a veritable inner-North hipster wonderland.
As we leave, we pop our heads into the new Rumi next door. It looks fantastic, a warm and inviting space draped in contemporary style, bigger than I expected, with a gentle industrial vibe. I’m excited to see where this new chapter in Rumi leads the Abbouds, and can’t wait to lock in a reservation for our next big celebration. After all, restaurants like Rumi, built on love, graft and determination, are themselves a cause for celebration.