Heirlooms & Homecoming in Teta's Deli

On any day the demurely sized deli is open (always after 11AM, because Dina does not function before then), people spill out onto the streets, sitting on plastic boxes while they snack on her sandwiches. There are three fillings currently and always on rotation: a lamb, a za’atar, and a chicken, which has been on the menu for seven months, but Dina still markets as the newest rollout. The menu is diminutive but the flavours are not. The sandwiches are laden with fresh labne, wild pickled cucumber, mint, olives, the lot. Every pliage is made with flatbreads from her uncle’s bakery in Mt. Druitt. His small business is named Maggie’s Bakery, after his wife. Dina El-Kaddoumi’s is named Teta’s, after her grandmother.

A family business by name and virtue, one might expect only heart-warming interactions over the glass counter where Dina serves her clientele. The reality is that El-Kaddoumi runs Teta’s Deli alongside her mother, Mona, who, in her words, is a “typical Lebanese mum who rings her ten times a day.” As the matriarch, her port of call involves making all the dips, brining the pickles, and chastising and picking at her daughter if she’s running late to open. El-Kaddoumi says, “If my mum’s over at the shop,  we will have a little tiff in front of everyone. People will get involved.”

Once, while catering for a dinner, Dina forgets the dessert at 10:00 Pm. She calls her mother and asks if she can turn out a rice pudding in five to seven hours. Mona, who works night time shifts at Maggie’s Bakery, tells her daughter a flat no. The next morning, Mona calls her and tells her the pudding is wrapped in tinfoil, function-ready. Dina is amazed her mother found the time and energy to do so after her close at 1AM. “I found the energy for my daughter,” says Mona.

The familial wreath extends beyond just the El-Kaddoumis to all who make their way to Teta’s. Within quarters of Teta’s on Roslyn Street, everyone spills onto the asphalt. The repeat offenders are an overlap of Lebanese millennials, fashion savants, queer couples, and families, all from different walks of life. El-Kaddoumi says, “Going to cafes, you don’t sit and talk to everyone, but with Teta’s, it’s such a small space that you’re forced to, in a weird way.” Dina does things to her own rhythm, if only to carry the intimacies of her friendships and family into her business. The crossovers that happen at Teta’s are a fraction of the owner’s own world.

In line with her Libra tendencies, she doesn’t think about the future all that much. In the past few years, her energy has gone into the day in and day out of serving food that she hasn’t had the reserves to conjure lofty next steps. Now that routine and repertoire have been established, Dina wants to map out the future of Teta’s. For the community, she’s envisioning more exhibitions at the shop, more movie nights, talks, continuing to bring together the crowd that she has unintentionally corralled and kept on retainer. She rattles off a list of little tweakments she’s after: the deli needs more storage, more seating, and a functional A/C for when it gets smoky. Floating shelves, too, because hers right now are too slanted, and the jars threaten to fall off. “The list goes on forever, but that’s the exciting part,” Dina says. On large-scale changes, she’s working hard to produce a liquor license. Nothing too large-scale, just mid-afternoons where she can sell a red, white and an Al Maza Lebanese beer at an accessible rate and scale. Teta’s Deli might open til 9pm, one to two nights in the week. As for when? “Soon,” Dina hopes.

Teta’s Deli is a migrant story. It is also a mosaic of culture and heirlooms, and the soon-to-be local “that’s been around forever”. That is the vision boarding for the next phase, at least. The story of how she acquired the space to begin with is a testament to the familial bonds alone. Dina was in and out of studying when her Teta passed away. “Something in me just changed. I got this energy, that I wanted to open a Teta’s. The pull was so strong,” Dina says.

Six months later, it happened. She spotted an unsuspecting corner of Roslyn Street for rent. She applied and thought: This was where Teta’s was going to be. That night, she received a call from the agent notifying her that the sale went through with another buyer. But two doors down, they might have something else in store for her. She acquired a sizable loan from Mona, and Teta’s became a flesh and mortar extension of all those who came before her.

It’s why everything she remembers is in small increments. While she’s grateful for the big opportunities and the press, Dina cherishes the moments when someone old and Lebanese comes through the door. She says, “It’s beautiful seeing how life changes, and how customers grow and do cool things. The babies start walking, and coming into the shop. When someone says, this is the best za’atar I’ve ever tried. I feel like a part of it. I’ve never felt more at home than I do now.”

Dina El-Kaddoumi hates work. She always has. Now, she’s over the counter, five days a week, while she tends to the people who are a part of her community. Teta’s Deli is open from 11-5pm. That will change soon. Later or earlier, she doesn’t know.