You’re walking down 34th Street, dodging tourists and aggressive commuters, and honestly, you just want a meal that doesn't taste like a cardboard box or cost a week's rent. That’s usually when you find it. Ali Baba Restaurant Manhattan sits there on East 34th Street like a quiet, wood-paneled middle finger to the overpriced, flashy bistros nearby. It’s been a staple for years. People call it a "hidden gem," but let’s be real—if a place is packed at 2:00 PM on a Tuesday, it’s not hidden. It’s just good.
Turkish food in New York is a competitive sport. You have the high-end spots in the Village and the hole-in-the-wall joints in Queens. Ali Baba occupies this weird, perfect middle ground. It’s authentic. It’s consistent. It’s the kind of place where you see diplomats from the nearby UN buildings sitting next to construction workers. They aren't there for the "vibe" or the Instagram aesthetic. They are there because the bread is hot, the hummus is creamy, and the meat is actually seasoned correctly.
What Actually Sets Ali Baba Restaurant Manhattan Apart?
Look, anyone can grill a piece of chicken. But the way they do it here? Different. Most Mediterranean spots in Midtown lean into the "fusion" trap. They try to be everything to everyone. Ali Baba stays in its lane, and that lane is traditional Turkish cuisine. They use a brick oven. That’s the secret. You can smell the yeast and the charred flour the second you push through the door.
If you’ve never had Turkish pide, you’re missing out. It’s basically a boat-shaped pizza, but better because the crust is softer and the toppings—usually lamb or spicy sausage—are integrated into the dough. Most people come for the kebabs, which are the heavy hitters. The Adana kebab, made with hand-chopped lamb and a specific blend of spices, is usually the litmus test for a Turkish kitchen. If it’s dry, the restaurant is failing. At Ali Baba, it’s juicy. It’s fatty in the way it’s supposed to be.
The Atmosphere Factor
The interior is… well, it’s cozy. Wood everywhere. Dim lighting. It feels like a tavern in Istanbul, not a storefront in the middle of a concrete jungle. It’s small, though. If you’re coming with a group of ten, you’re gonna have a bad time without a serious heads-up. It’s better for a date where you actually want to hear the other person talk, or a solo lunch where you can hide in a corner with a book and a plate of babaganoush.
💡 You might also like: Easy recipes dinner for two: Why you are probably overcomplicating date night
The Menu Breakdown: Beyond the Basic Hummus
Everyone orders hummus. It’s fine. It’s safe. But if you’re at Ali Baba Restaurant Manhattan, you need to go deeper. Try the Ezme. It’s a spicy tomato and walnut salad that’s finely chopped until it’s almost a spread. It’s acidic, crunchy, and has a kick that wakes up your palate.
- The Lahmacun: Think of it as a Turkish taco, but on thin, crispy dough. You roll it up with parsley and a squeeze of lemon. It’s the ultimate street food, elevated.
- Shepherd Salad: Simple? Yes. But it lives or dies by the quality of the tomatoes. In the middle of a New York winter, finding a tomato that actually tastes like a tomato is a miracle. They somehow manage it.
- The Lamb Shish: This isn't those chewy cubes you find at a street cart. These are tender, marinated pieces of meat that have seen the inside of a real flame.
The portions are generous. You aren't going to leave hungry. In a city where "small plates" have become a coded way for restaurants to charge you $28 for three bites of food, Ali Baba feels like a relief. You get a plate of food. You eat it. You feel full. It’s a simple concept that a lot of Manhattan restaurants seem to have forgotten.
A Note on the Service
The service is Turkish style. That means it’s efficient, but they aren't going to hover over you every five minutes asking how the first bite tastes. Some people find it a bit abrupt. I find it refreshing. They bring the food while it’s hot, they refill your water, and they let you eat in peace. If you want a waiter to be your best friend, go to a chain restaurant in Times Square. If you want a hot plate of Iskender kebab, stay here.
Common Misconceptions About Turkish Dining in Midtown
A lot of people think all Middle Eastern or Mediterranean food is the same. It’s not. Turkish food is its own beast, influenced by Central Asian, Middle Eastern, and Balkan cuisines. Ali Baba represents the Anatolian side of that spectrum.
📖 Related: How is gum made? The sticky truth about what you are actually chewing
One thing people get wrong is the "spiciness" level. Turkish food isn't "hot" spicy like Indian or Thai food. It’s "flavor" spicy. It’s about the cumin, the sumac, and the Aleppo pepper. It’s warmth, not burn. Another thing? The bread. In many cultures, bread is a side dish. In a Turkish meal, the bread is the vessel. It’s the tool. You use it to scoop, to soak up the juices, to wrap. The bread at Ali Baba is baked fresh, and honestly, you could probably make a meal out of just that and some olive oil.
The Logistics of Eating at Ali Baba
It’s located at 212 E 34th St. If you’re taking the subway, the 6 train to 33rd Street is your best bet. It’s a short walk from there. They do delivery, and they’re surprisingly good at it. Usually, fried or grilled food gets soggy in a delivery container, but they seem to have the packaging figured out. Still, nothing beats eating it right out of the oven.
Price-wise, you’re looking at mid-range. It’s not a "dollar slice" lunch, but it’s not a "white tablecloth" dinner price either. Most entrees land in the $20 to $35 range. For the quality of the meat and the location, that’s actually a steal.
Why the Location Matters
Being in Murray Hill/Midtown East means they deal with a lot of "office lunch" crowds. This has forced them to be fast. If you’re on a lunch hour, they can get you in and out. But in the evenings, the pace slows down. The light softens. It becomes a different place.
👉 See also: Curtain Bangs on Fine Hair: Why Yours Probably Look Flat and How to Fix It
Actionable Insights for Your Visit
Don't just walk in and order the first thing you see. To get the most out of Ali Baba Restaurant Manhattan, you need a bit of a strategy.
First, start with the mixed appetizer plate. It’s the best way to try the tabbouleh, the stuffed grape leaves, and the eggplant salad without committing to a giant portion of each. It’s perfect for sharing, or honestly, just for one very hungry person.
Second, ask about the daily specials. Sometimes they have slow-cooked stews or specific seasonal vegetable dishes that aren't on the main laminated menu. These are usually the most authentic things in the kitchen.
Third, save room for the tea and baklava. Turkish tea (cay) is served in those small, tulip-shaped glasses. It’s strong and hot. Pair it with the baklava, which is flaky and dripping with syrup but not so sweet it makes your teeth ache. It’s the only way to end the meal properly.
If you're looking for a fancy, experimental "concept" restaurant, keep walking. But if you want a meal that feels like it was made by someone who actually cares about the tradition of the dish, this is the spot. It’s reliable. It’s honest. In a city that changes every five minutes, there’s something really comforting about a place that just stays good at what it does.
Plan your visit for an early dinner to beat the 7:00 PM rush, especially on Thursdays and Fridays when the neighborhood crowds descend. If you’re doing takeout, call it in directly rather than just relying on the apps; it’s usually faster and the restaurant keeps more of the profit. Check their hours before you go, as they occasionally shift for holidays or private events.