Danyal M.
Yelp
Woke up at noon on a Sunday, because what is time on the weekend? I called my friend in Orange County to check in, and somehow, he was in Westwood. Eating lunch. Without me. Excuse me? Naturally, I demanded a location drop and pulled up immediately.
Surprise! The whole squad was there. Had I not made that call, I'd still be in the dark, eating cereal like a fool. But fate had other plans, and those plans involved kabob koobideh.
The koobideh itself? Solid. Juicy, well-seasoned, a respectable 9/10. But then... the grilled onions and bell peppers. Or should I say, lightly-warmed raw produce? I bit into an onion expecting that caramelized sweetness, and instead, I got flashbacks of chopping onions in my kitchen with tears streaming down my face. The rice? Brother, where was the soul? The salt? The love? Rice should not taste like existential dread.
Now, let's talk business. Panini Kabob, the Chipotle of Mediterranean food, is out here serving better food with less authenticity. That's a problem. Westwood is Persian food central--this place should be THE spot. But instead, I left feeling like a concerned Persian uncle at a family gathering: "Agha, what are you doing with your life?"
To be fair, the service was phenomenal. The gentleman who served us? A king. A scholar. But good service can't carry bland rice and confused vegetables.
My advice? Take a stroll up the street to Toranj, take notes, and come back stronger. Because right now, you're running a practice game while the competition is in the playoffs.