长沙USDT交易平台|【唯一TG:@heimifeng8】|电报盗号系统免杀破解技术✨谷歌搜索留痕排名,史上最强SEO技术,20年谷歌SEO经验大佬✨The Best Restaurants in Dubai: “We Speak Food!” How the Orfali Brothers Are Redefining Fine Dining
Orfali Bros’ bistronomy has burst onto the culinary stage with flair. Opened in 2025, it has rocketed to celestial heights, winning Best Restaurant in the Middle East & North Africa in both 2025 and 2025, and earning a coveted Michelin star. Clearly, something extraordinary is at play here—a force of talent, vision, and sheer tenacity.
I arrived at Orfali Bros, nestled in the heart of Jumeirah 1, early in the day, carrying with me equal measures of curiosity and anticipation. There’s always a certain magic in uncovering the story behind a place like this. And as I stepped inside, I was immediately struck by its charm. The interior is easy-going yet distinctive: eight tables arranged in a high-ceilinged space bathed in soft limestone hues. “The Citadel of Aleppo,” the waiter explained tenderly, catching my gaze as I admired a towering centrepiece.
And then, he appeared—Mohamad Orfali - instantly recognizable, the Aleppo-born celebrity chef - a full beard, his signature round black glasses, and a glint of mischief in his smile.
“You are from Armenia,” he greeted me warmly. “You know, my great-grandmother was Armenian, from the Hovannisian family. She came to Syrian from Gaziantep”. Mohamad sat down at my table.
What an ambiance! And what a perfect balance between casual ease and fine dining! It creates such a unique chemistry. How do you do it?
We break the rules! - smiles Mohamad. When my brothers—Wassim and Omar—and I opened Orfali Bros, we decided to revolutionise fine dining and make it fun dining! Even now, no one sees us as a high-end concept. Look at this space: it’s casual, yes. Upstairs is where my brothers create French pastries, and downstairs is my domain for modern food.
What is fun-dining of Orfali Bros all about?
At first, it was very hard to explain that we are not a classic Syrian restaurant. Or people would look at us and think, ‘Ah, Syrian boys making Japanese food.’ But there’s nothing Japanese here, and there’s no fusion. Look, we even write it on our menu—‘Fusion is confusion.’ We are not fusion; we are modern! Our cuisine is what I call Dubai cuisine. It’s inspired by the food we—the three brothers—love to eat and by our team, who come from nearly 20 different nationalities. We wanted to reflect Dubai’s incredible diversity and create something new. Dubai is the centre of the world, and we have the luxury of sourcing the best ingredients. Like the scallops you just had—they arrived fresh from Norway this morning. We are a cuisine of ingredients! We are a cuisine of chefs, who speak food!
What narrative are you speaking about?
Food needs personality! For me, the most important thing is to evoke memories in my guests while creating new ones. If you have good ingredients and the right techniques, cooking is easy. But how do you present your food? How do you allow guests to experience it from different perspectives? Our food takes you on a journey we call the Orfali Mindset. Through it, you can see my story: oysters, scallops, then gyoza, and sour cherry kebab—it’s a journey through my memories. From Aleppo, where it all began, to Dubai, where doors open to the whole world.
Since your great-grandmother was Armenian, did Armenian cuisine influence you in any way?
Of course! By the way, the funny thing is that Lebanese Armenians call this sour cherry kebab an Armenian dish, but Armenians in Aleppo didn’t actually eat it. My grandma used to joke about us making it. It's not Armenian at all—it's 100% Aleppian. Armenian food in Aleppo is very conservative. You only find it at home, not in restaurants. For example, you’d never try manti unless you’re eating it at someone’s home. The only Armenian foods you’d find in shops were basturma and sujuk. The best sujuk I’ve ever had in my life was at Abu Hakob’s shop.
When I was a young boy, I used to visit his small shop, and everyone looked at me like I was a weirdo because places like that weren’t for teenagers. He made sujuk without a specific recipe—just seasoning by eye and letting it air cure. His sujuk was completely different from anyone else’s, and it left such a strong impression on me. Today, my sujuk is inspired by his. I’ve reached a point where I can match his flavours but using the high technology I have now and people go crazy over it!
Having tried a decent portion of your menu, I must say—it feels like a whirlwind tour of the globe, all compressed into the span of a dinner—a journey where each chapter unfolds with delightful unpredictability. And, as with any masterful work of art, the hand of its creator shines through. How early on did you find your style?
When I started, I didn’t want to be a Syrian chef—just someone making kebabs, tabbouleh, hummus, and all that. I thought, ‘It’s not for me.’ My dream was to go to France or Italy and learn to cook bœuf bourguignon, filet mignon, pizzas, and pastas. But it was only when I left Syria that I realised how rich and powerful Syrian cuisine really is. It happened when the founder of the cooking channel, who loved my food, insisted on having me on TV, but I was scared—what was I going to tell people? So, before scripting my first show, he suggested I write a book. And so, I did. My first book, Ana Halabi (I Am from Aleppo), was published in 2009, and while researching for it, I discovered the depth of Syrian cuisine, especially Aleppo’s. That’s when it hit me —oh, my goodness, what have I been overlooking? Aleppo’s cuisine is one of the richest in the world, and there’s so much food science in it—curing, sustainability, preserving ingredients—all of it was so fundamental!
Take eggplants, for example. How many recipes can you make with them? We make so many, even sweet jam. But Aleppians want to keep these gems to themselves and also - we don't know how to talk about our food. I remember asking my mom how to cook something, and she’d say, ‘Ask your grandmother.’ Then my grandmother would say, ‘Ask your aunt.’ Recipes were passed from mother to daughter, often losing pieces along the way. So, I took it upon myself the responsibility to represent Aleppo’s cuisine —but in a modern way. But there was a problem…
Let me guess - Aleppians are conservative about their food?
Exactly! Just like Armenians! ‘You can’t touch our recipes!’ People from Aleppo were very angry with me when I, for instance, changed the texture of kebab al-karaz [Ed. - sour cherry kebab]. Everyone loved it only when I renamed it “Come with Me to Aleppo”, inspired by Massimo Bottura’s "Come to Italy with Me" book. I created this dish to transport my guests to my childhood memories. Close your eyes, take a bite, and find yourself in Aleppo of those days…
Growing up there left a deep mark on me—the street food, the music, the fabrics, the souk. I can still remember the smells: mahshi, mulukhiyah. And our family, we loved food. We did nothing but eat! I remember my grandmother Fatoum—an exceptional cook—hosting feasts every Friday after Jum’ah prayers when the whole family would gather at her house. She, by the way, used to give me a lot of comments when I became a TV cook, laughs Mohamad. So, to find my identity as a chef, to understand who I really am and what I want to do, I had to go back to my roots.
Was it your love for food that led you to become a chef?
Actually, I became a chef by accident. I was 14, and I wasn’t doing well in school. No school would accept me except for the culinary school, which had just opened in Syria in 1994—and they were accepting anyone. My father told me, ‘This is the perfect school for failures like you,’” Mohamad bursts into laughter. Two weeks after starting, I told my mom I wanted to continue. She was shocked—almost had a heart attack! Her son, a cook? It was unthinkable! We’re from one of the biggest families in Aleppo, and I was expected to go into business or earn a high-level degree, be a doctor, engineer, or something like that. But there I was, telling her I wanted to be a chef!
No one in the family accepted it. They never even visited the restaurants I worked at because I had brought shame to the family. But when I became a TV chef, everybody was so proud of me. My father was the only one who supported me from the very beginning.
Working with family can be highly charged at times, yet here you are—proving the opposite. Do you always agree with your brothers?
Not really. We have different mindsets, but the good thing is—they trust me. You know, it took us years to open this restaurant. I took this space in 2025, but we only opened in 2025 after many delays, partly due to the COVID-19 pandemic. I was financially broke—I didn’t have the money to pay a manager, head chef, or sous chef—but we still did it!
Did you believe in yourself that much?
I believe in the team. To this day, I don’t have a head chef because here, everyone is responsible. Everyone is a head chef.
How does that work? Kitchens are usually so much about hierarchy.
They are, but it works perfectly for us. Sometimes I don’t even understand how I do it, Mohamad laughs. You know, we grew up in kitchens, which are very conservative environments. You’re in the same circle all the time, not meeting many people—just those you work with. This team is my second family and I’m so proud of them - they started with me and have grown so much, becoming part of Brothers. Even now, I work 12 to 14 hours a day, but I make sure my team only works 9 hours.
I want them to have a life. Orfali Bros is a culture. Once you step inside, you feel happiness. And people leaving the restaurant are always smiling.
Would it be fair to say that taking risks and being unconventional is a part of who you are?
We make the impossible possible. We can change the menu immediately to create a completely different vibe. We have an R&D team and a small lab where we do a lot of research and development—from drinks (we were among the first to start making kombuchas) to miso and tamari. Whenever we host four-hands dinners, we develop entirely new concepts. For example, last time we collaborated with Dani García and Smoked Room Dubai, and we completely changed the style of our food. People were shocked—who does this?
Again, we have changed it when we cooked with Alain Passard [Ed. - the French chef and owner of the three-Michelin-starred L'Arpège in Paris]. We’ve worked with so many great chefs and adjusted accordingly every time. I don’t want to be confined to one type of cuisine. For instance, everyone loves burgers—so why can’t I make burgers in fine dining? Remember, we’re fun dining! This is the freedom of cooking, and people love it. I think this is the future.
What are your plans for the future?
After four years of fine dining service, doing 200 covers a day, with five slots every two hours, 35 seats running non-stop, fully booked for two months, and the awards we've received, we've realised we can do more! So, we’re opening two new concepts. One is Three Bros, right next door. We’ll keep the same identity but add more. It will be a bistro-style place, which I think Dubai is missing—more steak tartare, comfort food, and different styles of pizza. The interior colours will be very much my style—vibrant, with tiles like those in old French bistros. It will be all about atmosphere, food, art, and music. The music system will be crazy! It will also be like a gallery where we support artists and showcase their work. The other concept is inspired by Thai food, but with a different mindset. Everything will be cooked over charcoal, with no wheat—only rice, in many different forms: fermented, crispy, steamed, sticky... It will open soon.
I have a sense that no matter how much you achieve, you’ll always dream. Is that right?
My dream isn’t about getting another star or even three stars... I want to open an Orfali Bros Academy and to change the food scene in the Middle East, making it more innovative and modern. Look at Noma and what they did with Scandinavian food! I love them! To be creative, you need the right platform, ingredients, human resources, money, and research and development—all of this environment. You need an idea that is sustainable, because if it's not, you can set a trend, but in a few months or a year, it will fade. Dubai is the greatest platform for creativity, so I’m working on my dream. I don’t know when, but one day, someone will say, ‘I graduated from the Orfali Bros Academy!’
Do you see your future bringing you to Armenia?
I would love to! I’ve never been to Armenia.
So be it—and let’s toast to that with your terrific cherry kombucha!
By Nata Brettell