Over the summer, I happened upon a little cafe called Palmyra whilst strolling down Atlantic Avenue with a friend, waterfront bound. I smelled fresh pita bread- which is not too random in that area, but I hadn’t really explored too many cafes along the avenue and we decided to stop where we stood and walk into this place that smelled satisfying, if not all too mysterious. Since it had just started to rain, the back – and small garden with hookahs on each table – was closed. We sat inside, admiring the beautiful glass lamps and bold purple paint job. All-the-closer to the kitchen, from the inside, more scents were available, and my stomach got all quirky with excitement about the meal to come. The pita was huge and full of air-beautiful to this foodie’s eyes. I popped it and introduced the doughy layer to the freshly made hummus on my plate. The waiter was attentive, but seemed to know just when to disappear – a true talent in a place so small and quiet. I confirmed that I still do not like babaganoush, but the warm couscous salad and pleasantly blended, fresh herbs topped off by a lovely piece of baklawa made that rainy summer stroll one to remember. The food and service are of memorable quality year round.
Kaitlin Sansoucie 