Byblos is the work of Sami and Hala Tabet, who do the cooking and the serving, the ringing up and the clearing up. The compact menu is hand-lettered on a white board above the coffee apparatus behind the counter. All the food in Byblos' cold case is identified by hand-lettered signs too. There are substantial pies filled with spinach or brushed with zaatar (a mixture of thyme, sesame, and sumac). There are wide trays of creamy dips like baba ghanouj or hummus, tight rolls of grape leaves, and brownie-like slabs of vegetarian kibbeh.
This is not fancy dining. With its soda cooler humming beneath the piped in melodies of French pop music and the wrought iron patio furniture that fills a narrow dining area beyond the cash register, Byblos is a little less polished than other spots in town. It's homey, rather than chic, and the food is like that too.