By Marco Shalma.
If you want to understand Egyptian New York, stand in Astoria around dusk. You’ll catch the scent of spiced rice drifting from open windows, hear someone grilling kofta on a small balcony, see grocery bags filled with fresh pita and jars of pickled vegetables. Egyptian immigrants began arriving in significant numbers from the 1960s onward, many settling in Queens, parts of Bay Ridge, and pockets of Jersey just across the river. They built homes, restaurants, and entire micro-communities anchored by food that balances warmth, economy, and technique.
Koshary is the cornerstone. Egypt’s national dish, a working-class masterpiece born in Cairo from lentils, rice, pasta, chickpeas, caramelized onions, and a tangy tomato-vinegar sauce. It came from necessity, crafted by workers who needed high-energy food they could afford daily. When Egyptian New Yorkers began setting up restaurants and takeout spots in Astoria and Steinway Street, koshary followed them. In New York, it became the meal that fuels entire day shifts, cab routes, late-night study marathons, and families stretching budgets without compromising flavor. Koshary is proof that comfort food doesn’t have to be heavy, it has to be smart.
Falafel carries a different lineage. Ground fava beans, herbs, onions, spices, shaped, fried, and served inside pita with tahina. Egyptians have been making falafel long before the global chickpea version took over menus. When Egyptians came to New York, they brought the fava-based technique with them, and it quietly reset expectations. Falafel carts and storefronts became essential stops for workers, students, and anyone needing something fast, hot, and reliable. The crunch tells its own truth.
Kofta brings the flame. Ground beef or lamb mixed with onions and spices, shaped onto skewers, roasted over charcoal until the edges crisp. Kofta migrated with Egyptian butchers and grill masters who knew that heat isn’t the goal, control is. In New York, kofta became a bridge dish: the one served at family gatherings, the one carried out of halal grills on Steinway, the one that pulls strangers into the right restaurant by smell alone.
Egyptian New York didn’t grow through flash. It grew through consistency. Through bakeries making fresh pita at sunrise. Through grocery shops stocked with molokhia leaves, dried hibiscus, and spices measured by hand. Through restaurants where owners know half the customers by name. Food became the social glue, a way to keep the community intact across languages, generations, and borough lines.
To taste the lineage today, visit Kabab Café in Astoria for kofta and slow-cooked dishes that carry depth. Stop at Mamoun’s Falafel for falafel that hits every note perfectly, crispy, flavorful, and classic. Then make your way to Mum Feteer for koshary and other Egyptian street food favorites done the right way
Now you know: Egyptian New York didn’t arrive to chase trends. It arrived to anchor people, and the city has leaned on that comfort ever since.
Like this? Explore more from:
