Hamed Allahyari was a chef and restaurateur in Tehran, Iran until 2012 when religious conflict forced him to flee to Australia. His love for hospitality never left him. Upon arriving in Australia, he began working with Asylum Seeker Resource Centre Catering and Free to Feed, two social enterprises designed to support new migrants through food and dining. Then, seven years later, he opened Café Sunshine & Salamatea, a social enterprise restaurant designed to employ, train and mentor asylum seekers and refugees facing similar paths to him.
It’s been a beloved local gathering place ever since – not just for its friendly, community focus but for its approachable Persian fare, which is hard to come by in Melbourne. Iranian food is not well represented here and when it does appear, skewered meats are often the focus. This is no doubt a core component of the cuisine but overshadows the fact that it's vegetarian-friendly and characterised by its use of floral, sweet and sour flavours, adding complexity and balance to each dish. (For context, Samin Nosrat, author of Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, is also Persian.)
Salamatea, however, brings this back into focus. It’s like a best-of list of dishes and ingredients from the region, presented in a familiar Melbourne café format. The Campos coffee with Schulz milk (or your choice of non-dairy) is as good as any around, though the sharbat, cordials flavoured with either lemon and saffron or sour cherry, are better indications of what to expect from the restaurant.
For a true taste of Iran, the $19 Persian breakfast plate is a good starting point with a pot of black tea, barbari (Persian flatbread) plus all the condiments you could need – think housemade jam, butter, tahini drizzled with date molasses (eats like PB&J, but better), and “feta truffles” made from cheese curds and herbs. With no star protein aside from the cheese, it suits more as a shared starter than a main but can easily be paired with other dishes for a more well-rounded meal.
Like the felafel plate, for example, which will make you forget any dry, crumbly chickpea fritter you’ve ever had. These are crisp and so full-flavoured and bursting with herbs that you could eat them just as they are, though the housemade hummus and beetroot dips are welcome accompaniments.
The fesenjan (chicken stewed in a walnut and pomegranate gravy, served with barberry-studded saffron rice) is another signature. It arrives a bit cold but is good nevertheless. The chicken is tender to the point of nearly falling apart with a seared exterior that stands up to the thick, tangy sauce. I can only imagine it warm.
As a social enterprise employed by people with varying degrees of hospitality experience, service will sometimes be slow or stilted as it was when I visited. But if you’re willing to be patient and have time to linger, it’s a great place to spend a few hours sipping tea. And if you don’t, visit anyway – there’s a grab-and-go fridge of take-home meals that are worth traveling for.