By Chaya Rappaport

Photograph by Kamal Harry

While Hasidim are a strong presence inside Famous Pita, the residents of the neighborhood are mostly Pakistani.

Driving down Coney Island Avenue, it’s easy to tell which section is known as Little Pakistan. Every other shop seems to be a halal supermarket, and Urdu, the official language of Pakistan, which is written in Arabic script, adorns many signs. A travel agency declares itself a specialist in Haj and Umra. In the heart of this Muslim neighborhood sits Famous Pita, an Israeli kosher establishment.

No, Famous Pita is not a relic from the days when Woody Allen lived nearby and the neighborhood was overwhelmingly Jewish, in the 1930s. Bruce Tanami, a short, olive-skinned man known to his Jewish friends as Baruch, opened Famous Pita in 1987, as the Jews started being replaced by Pakistanis.

Just a few blocks away, the population remains largely Jewish. The intersection of Avenue J and Coney Island is the center of Orthodox Jewish Flatbush, home to dozens of kosher restaurants. A little farther west is Borough Park, another Orthodox Jewish neighborhood. But Tanami says he chose his location precisely because it was outside those areas. While Flatbush and Borough Park have dozens of kosher restaurants and falafel joints, when Tanami opened Famous Pita, the only place to grab a falafel on this stretch of Coney Island Avenue was at some pizza parlors.

Today, Famous Pita draws an eclectic mix of customers, including Jewish patrons in the surrounding neighborhoods to Muslims drawn by the restaurant’s kosher certification, which many consider consistent with the Muslim dietary laws known as halal. Famous Pita is one of the few places where Hasidic Jews and Muslim women in hijabs sit side by side, eating the same food, Tanami says. On the Chowhound website, Mike R. supports that claim: “There was quite a cross-cultural mix enjoying the goods.”

Photograph by Kamal Harry

The intersection of Coney Island Avenue and Avenue J, in Brooklyn, is the center of Orthodox Jewish Flatbush, but Muslims from nearby Little Pakistan frequent these streets, too.

A self-serve establishment, Famous Pita offers everything Middle Eastern: falafel, shawarma, baklava, as well as some Ashkenazic favorites, like cholent, a stew, at affordable prices. A falafel pita is $6 and shawarma pita goes for $10. As a kosher meat restaurant, Famous Pita serves no dairy and is closed on Friday evenings and Saturdays. Its loyal fans will swear it serves the best and most authentic falafel outside of Israel, where Tanami’s recipes originate. This sort of informal restaurant, where you can fill your own falafel, is common in Israel, but Tanami says he was the first to open one in this area. Locals say there was no place to get kosher Middle Eastern food in the neighborhood until the late 1970s.

Tanami was 4 when his family moved to Brooklyn from Israel. Though he was not Hasidic, he attended Satmar schools, where he learned Yiddish. Tanami started in the food business as a manager at Kosher Castle in Borough Park, which has since closed. Then he moved to Manhattan, where he and a partner ran Pita Express. In 1987, Tanami left to open Famous Pita, and in 2008, moved it down the block to its current more-spacious location. The restaurant now fits about a dozen wooden tables in its modern, white-walled interior. Large windows offer a glimpse of the busy street outside. Red hanging lamps give the room a slightly Middle Eastern look.

Not surprisingly, Famous Pita draws many customers from the surrounding Jewish neighborhoods. Its Pakistani neighbors are more ambivalent. An employee at the travel agency down the block flatly says, “We don’t eat there,” in a tone that implies that “we” includes any self-respecting Pakistani. But the Muslim shopkeeper next door at Lana’s Jewelers and Boutique admits to eating at Famous Pita—but does not want to be identified. For him, Famous Pita’s kosher certification is a draw, since he adheres to halal dietary rules. “What’s the difference between halal and kosher?” he demands.

Photograph by Kamal Harry

Jewish and Pakistani neighborhoods sit side-by-side on Coney Island Avenue and are served by community newspapers.

Tanami keeps his storefront deliberately free of Hebrew, other than a small certification display. To passersby, it is not immediately recognizable as a Jewish restaurant and could be easily mistaken for just another Pakistani place.

For Tanami, Famous Pita’s location is a business proposition, pure and simple—close enough to draw Jews from nearby neighborhoods, appealing to a few of his more open-minded Muslim neighbors. In the early days, he confesses, he sometimes felt “crowded in” by the Pakistani shops and customers, which have increased in number during recent years. But now he says, “They all know me.” The sentiment, it seems, is mutual.