Kosher food is now being served in the heart of Damascus, a development that reflects the broader transformations unfolding in Syria since the fall of Bashar al-Assad in late 2024, according to a leading U.S. newspaper.
The New York Times reports that in the kitchen of the Royal Semiramis Hotel in central Damascus, chefs recently prepared a traditional Syrian spread — hummus, muhammara and stuffed grape leaves — carefully adapted to meet Jewish dietary laws. Plates and utensils were separated, wrapped and clearly marked, while signs in English cautioned staff not to touch items designated “only for kosher food.”
For chef Abd Alrahman Qahwahji, who left Syria during the civil war and worked in Lebanon and Iraq before returning, the experience was unprecedented. He told the newspaper that although he had seen many culinary traditions abroad, this was his first encounter with kosher preparation.
The initiative comes as more Syrian and non-Syrian Jews have begun visiting the country in the post-Assad period. Syria once had an estimated Jewish population of about 30,000, concentrated in Damascus, Aleppo and Qamishli. Most departed in successive waves after the creation of Israel and regional wars, with the final significant exodus occurring in the early 1990s. Today, only a handful of Jews remain in Damascus.
Joseph Jajati, a 32-year-old businessman based in New York whose family left Damascus when he was a toddler, has been instrumental in promoting renewed Jewish engagement with Syria. Through his Syrian Mosaic Foundation, he organizes group visits and envisions broader cultural initiatives, including a handicrafts center in the old city of Damascus.
The idea for a kosher kitchen at the Semiramis emerged after a group visit in September, when Rabbi Asher Lopatin of Michigan and others dined at the hotel. The meal was generous, but the rabbi could eat little beyond fruit due to dietary restrictions. The hotel’s owner, Mounzer Nazha, subsequently inquired whether a kosher kitchen could be established.
When Jajati returned in December, he brought approximately 50 pounds of kosher meat from New York. The hotel purchased new grills, skewers, plates and utensils dedicated exclusively to kosher use. Jajati personally instructed the staff on the requirements, and the restaurant soon hosted its first kosher dinner during Hanukkah.
For now, the kitchen is described as “unofficially kosher,” pending formal certification by a rabbinical authority. Still, participants see the move as a symbolic step toward encouraging Syrian Jews to reconnect with their ancestral homeland.
Beyond cuisine, deeper issues remain unresolved. Some Syrian Jews are seeking to reclaim properties left behind decades ago. The current government has stated that individuals who can prove ownership may recover their assets, yet practical and legal obstacles persist. Many synagogues in Damascus’ old city, once numbering more than a dozen, are shuttered and no longer in regular use.
During a recent visit, Jajati and a group toured the Elfranj synagogue in the Jewish Quarter. Under the Assad government, synagogue keys were reportedly controlled by security agencies. They are now held by a committee under the Foreign Ministry. On the day of the visit, officials overseeing restoration work declined to allow entry until cleanup was complete, a decision that frustrated Jajati, who said his parents had married there and that he himself had undergone his ritual circumcision in the building.
Later that evening, conversation returned to the possibility of transferring custody of synagogue keys to members of the Jewish community. Meanwhile, in the hotel kitchen, staff prepared rib-eye steaks in separate racks, carefully avoiding contact with non-kosher service. Trays were labeled in Arabic “Special kosher,” and gloves, utensils and serving plates were kept distinct.
In the dining room, waiters placed dishes of muhammara, hummus and salads before guests. For Jajati, the meal represented more than a culinary adjustment. He had pledged during his first post-Assad visit to create at least one place in Damascus where observant Jews could dine without compromise.
As the evening unfolded, he appeared satisfied that a modest yet meaningful vision was taking shape. Between courses, he reflected on his promise to fellow Syrian Jews that conditions for return, even temporary return, would gradually improve.
“Promises made,” he said. “Promises kept.”
