5 min read
For a man who makes his living from food, you might expect Ali Yousef to have cherished childhood memories of Palestinian food, recipes handed down through generations. Ali’s identity and culture are something he discovered “way into adulthood.”
Born in Kuwait, Ali’s family left when he was two months old to escape the invasion of Iraq. Their relocation to the UK was supposed to be temporary, but two years later, they were still here.
Now refugees twice over (Ali’s family fled war when they were children themselves) Ali says it took 18 years to realise that they were staying.
"I've got nothing that says I'm Palestinian other than my culture, and the biggest part of that, the one I go back to every single day, is food"
“Part of that was not wanting to accept reality, determined not to let this happen again,” he says, “part of that is confusion – do you now settle? Or will there be war here too?”
That mindset trickled into Ali’s diet, his parents adamant he ate Palestinian food at home as an act of resistance.
“They instilled in us to be proud of this food. As Palestinians, we're stateless. That’s part of the design, to remove indigenous people and give them no identity. I've got nothing that says I'm Palestinian other than my culture, and the biggest part of that, the one I go back to every single day, is food,” he says.
While Ali wishes he had a chef story, he could barely fry an egg. He studied law at university to appease his parents, who worried he would never get married without a degree. A visit to Palestine in 2010, however, lit a spark.
“It was my first trip to Palestine visiting Tal, my dad’s tiny village. I’ve never met these people but they make me musakhan. The love and the warmth that went into this dish, what it meant to them, how they presented it… They told me they make it for special guests. That was one of the most memorable moments of my life,” Ali says, naming musakhan as the dish he is most proud of.
[Courtesy of Ali Yousef]
So how did this would-be lawyer become the founder of one of Manchester’s most popular Middle Eastern restaurants?
Like most great men, it was a great woman – Ali’s wife, Aisha. Meeting at university, Aisha turned Ali’s dreams into practical steps: “I dream about owning 15,000 restaurants, but think ‘I’ll never be able to do that.’ She books the meeting and says ‘You can.’ She’s the backbone of Baity.”
The idea for the restaurant began as a dessert shop and then a bakery, before Baity was conceptualised with a Nordic, European look.
“Most Palestinian restaurants look and smell foreign. We opened in a very white, middle-class area in Didsbury, Manchester, so we had to consider that,” Ali says.
Since then, the eatery has transitioned to Kargo Market in Salford Quays, serving a Palestinian Sunday roast, maqluba and Gazan king prawns with taboon bread.
Ali is conscious that each delicious dish on the menu has a cultural and culinary link to Palestine.
“We don’t do shawarma, as much as we get requests for it. We cook food from the Palestinian home, dishes my great grandma passed down. There are Syrian dishes we cook at home that I won’t put on the menu because I wouldn’t want to appropriate someone else's food. I don’t believe in borders, but I want to trace back and prove my heritage,” he says.
Even the name, Baity, means home. “It’s also an Arabic word everyone can pronounce,” Ali laughs.
Baity isn’t just about food. Coming from a politically active family, Ali grew up doing his part for Palestine.
“When my brother became a lawyer, he worked pro bono for Palestine. My sister would design websites for Palestinian charities for free. When you see people starving on the news, you feel an obligation to help,” Ali says.
“Even before we earned our first pound, we said, ‘the more we earn, the more we give.’ If we have enough to sustain ourselves, let’s support the community,” he adds.
"We suffer from survivor’s guilt, but we are unbelievably proud to be Palestinian because we've resisted one of the largest armies in the world"
Baity supports causes both globally and locally, feeding emergency services during the Manchester floods, serving at local fundraising events or anonymously delivering food.
Charity isn’t a talking point for Ali, “it’s just normal. It’s an act of worship, of purifying ourselves.”
There has been a noticeable change to Baity’s footfall since October 72023. “More people have gone out to eat and consume Palestinian food and goods because they feel that’s the only way they can support Palestinian resistance,” Ali says, acting as an elevator pitch for the Palestinian cause.
“About 50% of our customers were undecided, unaware or ignorant. Had my business not been there, they would have no interaction with Palestine. They’re not politically minded, they’re not going to pick through the news, so they ask me. I have two minutes to convince them about our cause while they order food,” he adds.
Is it a burden to constantly have to be that voice? Ali isn’t sure. “We suffer from survivor’s guilt, but we are unbelievably proud to be Palestinian because we've resisted one of the largest armies in the world. Our food's awesome, and we've shown the world that, no, we're not going to back down. All these things together, it becomes an honour,” he says, welcoming a boom in Palestinian businesses.
“It’s awkward, but we don’t have to be poor. This is our time to shine. Let’s be rich and set up empires. We live in a world where money talks, so let's raise this money and help our community off the back of our businesses.”
Isabella Silvers isa multi-award-winning editor and journalist, having written for Cosmopolitan, Women's Health, Refinery 29 and more. She also writes a weekly newsletter on mixed-race identity, titled Mixed Messages
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