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At a time when Brunswick’s Levantine dining scene was largely defined by traditional, family-style eateries along Sydney Road, Joseph Abboud broke new ground with Rumi, his modern interpretation of the region’s cuisine on Lygon Street. Drawing deeply from his Lebanese heritage, Abboud’s concept reimagined the Levantine dining experience for a contemporary audience.
Nearly two decades, a cookbook, and a loyal local following later, Abboud has relocated Rumi to its new home at the East Brunswick Village development on Nicholson Street. The high ceilings, dark, untarnished timber, and sleek gold-accented bar mark a departure from the more rustic charm of its former space. Yet with Abboud still in the kitchen preparing many of the dishes that made Rumi an institution, its heart and soul remain.
What’s striking about Rumi is that, while food and service receive maximum attention, it’s far from serious or stuffy. Staff are all dressed in matching Adidas tees reminiscent of '70s-era Lebanese soccer uniforms. And water is poured from decanters that our server stretched their arm up high to pour like the Arabic ritual of aerating coffee or tea.
Like most venues that stand the test of time, Rumi has retained several signature dishes that have become integral to its identity – too iconic and painstakingly refined to remove from the menu. One such dish is the Persian meatballs, made from tender minced lamb flecked with grains of rice. They’re simmered in a fragrant tomato and saffron sauce and topped with a scoop of housemade labne, adding just the right ratios of moisture and acidity.
Though a side of bread or rice would be an easy choice, we opt instead for a dish of cauliflower florets, lightly fried (no breading) and dressed with caramelised onions, currants, and pine nuts. A pinch more salt could have brought the flavours into sharper focus but then again, it’s a signature, so who are we to say?
Then there are the verjus and grape molasses-marinated quail kebabs, legendary in their own right, having won over none other than Anthony Bourdain when he visited in 2009. At $27 for two generous skewers (one made from breasts, the other from legs), they could stand in as a hearty solo meal paired with a grain or salad. Or the freekeh, which offers the best of both worlds, pairing the nutty grain with parsley, feta, and a generous helping of toasted almonds.
If you want to stay within the region of focus, beverages include a light, refreshing Lebanese Limonada (white rum, lemon, orange blossom, soda) and wines carefully curated from Lebanon and its surrounds. Here and at neighbouring bar, Rocket Society, Abboud’s mission is to put the wines of the Levant on the map.
Rumi is the cornerstone of Abboud’s vision, while Rocket Society offers a more experimental counterpoint, with both venues working in tandem to elevate Levantine cuisine and hospitality. At once trailblazing and innovative, the concept is poised for decades more success to come.