Armenian Women, Cuisine, and Resilience: Cherishing the Past and Building the Future in Lebanon
Miguel Mendelek, PhD candidate in Political Science at Saint Joseph University (USJ); Researcher, Institute for Migration Studies (IMS), The Arab Institute for Women (AiW)
Yara Halabi, Master’s candidate in International Affairs at LAU; Student Research Assistant, The Arab Institute for Women (AiW)
Introduction: Armenians’ New Home in Lebanon
In the wake of a genocide that sought to erase an entire people, Armenians began arriving in Lebanon as early as 1915. Fleeing horrific mass killings, starvation, death marches, slavery, and indiscriminate destruction at the hands of the Ottoman Empire, they laid the foundations of one of Lebanon’s most enduring and resilient communities. Over the course of more than a century, Armenians in Lebanon have exemplified survival, adaptation, and prosperity—rebuilding their lives through a collective revival of identity, heritage, and cultural expression. They achieved a remarkable transformation that few refugee communities have managed: moving from need and vulnerability to power, contribution, and continuity.
Despite carrying the weight of historical trauma, Lebanon’s Armenian community embraced the challenge of minority existence. In doing so, they created powerful stories of endurance, ingenuity, and self-reliance—stories that now form an integral part of Lebanon’s richly woven sociocultural landscape. In cities such as Ashrafieh (east Beirut), Bourj Hammoud (Beirut’s northern suburbs), Anjar, Shtoura, Zahle (in the Beqaa), Antelias, Jal el Dib, and Zalka (in the Metn district), Armenians established neighborhoods, churches, schools, and vibrant cultural hubs. These spaces became more than centers of daily life; they came to represent distinct imaginations of belonging, anchoring a diasporic identity in the heart of Lebanon.
Armenian Women’s Roots and Rise
Armenian women have long been the primary custodians of cultural survival and continuity. In the aftermath of genocide and forced exile, they transformed grief into resilience, laying the foundation for a thriving community in Lebanon. Though many began their lives in makeshift shelters—tents, shacks, and overcrowded dwellings—they refused invisibility. Learning Arabic and navigating a new society, they carved out space for themselves in the fabric of Lebanese life while fiercely preserving their own.
Women were often the first to organize bazaars, where they sold homemade delicacies and handcrafted goods to support their families and fund benevolent Armenian institutions. These modest beginnings were deeply rooted in the desire to preserve a distinct cultural identity and foster collective belonging. Over the course of at least four generations, Armenian women have passed down language, memory, customs, and culinary knowledge, forming the backbone of a self-reliant and proud community.
Their resilience is perhaps most powerfully expressed through food. Traditional cuisine has served as both an anchor and a bridge—preserving Armenian heritage while fostering connection with Lebanese society. For many women, the kitchen became a site of creative resistance and cultural affirmation, where the aromas and flavors of ancestral dishes told stories of survival, love, and strength. Through their hands and hearts, Armenian women shaped a dual identity—both Armenian and Lebanese—rooted in memory, forged in migration, and expressed through everyday acts of nourishment and care.
Cuisine and Resilience
Across history, communities facing displacement, conflict, and marginalization have turned to food not only for sustenance, but as a powerful medium of cultural expression. For many migrants and refugees, culinary practices are among the most enduring elements of identity—rituals that travel across borders and generations. The act of preparing traditional meals becomes a symbol of continuity and resilience, anchoring people amid the uncertainty of exile.
This phenomenon is often described in terms of culinary sustainability, where food practices serve as forms of resistance, adaptation, and remembrance. In times of instability, cooking familiar dishes can restore a sense of normalcy. Meals bring back cherished memories, reinforce social bonds, and offer moments of comfort and dignity. Shared meals—whether at holiday feasts, remembrance days, or modest family gatherings—become spaces of communal care and emotional healing.
For marginalized and displaced groups, cooking traditional food is often an unspoken assertion of presence. It resists the pressures of assimilation and erasure, offering a subtle but powerful way to maintain identity in new environments. In refugee camps and neighborhoods shaped by migration, the kitchen becomes a site of agency. Through the preparation of food, communities adapt, rebuild, and remember. Around these tables, the taste of home becomes a language of care, resistance, and celebration—carried forward despite loss, across shifting sociopolitical landscapes.
Armenian Cuisine at Home
In Lebanon, Armenian cuisine has become one of the most powerful expressions of survival and cultural continuity. Passed down through generations, traditional recipes carry the flavors—and the emotional memory—of a homeland lost to genocide. The kitchen became a space of quiet resistance, where cooking was not merely about feeding a family, but about preserving identity and honoring the past.
Armenian women transformed their kitchens into sites of intergenerational sisterhood. Mothers, daughters, grandmothers, and neighbors came together to prepare meals, often while singing folk songs or recounting stories of their ancestors. These gatherings infused warmth into every dish and anchored memory in every flavor. For the founding generation, especially, food preparation was a daily act of remembrance—a way to sustain cultural life when so much else had been taken.
Today, Lebanese Armenians have introduced a wide range of dishes that blend heritage with innovation, reflecting their dual identity. Manti, a cherished dumpling dish akin to the Lebanese shish barak, has captured the hearts of many for its spiced richness. Zhingyalov hats, a stuffed flatbread flavored with herbs and chili, offers an Armenian twist on the Lebanese fatayer. Boreg, a cheese-filled pastry similar to rkakat, is a beloved appetizer served in homes and restaurants alike.
Lavash, a soft, pillowy flatbread central to Armenian baking culture, is used not just as bread, but as a plate or utensil—underscoring its versatility and cultural symbolism. Perhaps the most iconic dish is Lahmajin, often called “Armenian pizza.” Its savory, spiced meat topping, paired with a refreshing yogurt drink named tan (similar to Ayran), has become a staple in Lebanese culinary life. Through these dishes, Armenian women have sustained memory, bridged cultures, and created a culinary language that speaks to both resilience and belonging.
Armenian Women and Cuisine at the Heart of Lebanon’s Culinary Scene
From their home kitchens to the heart of Lebanon’s culinary scene, Armenian women transformed cooking into a powerful form of cultural expression and economic empowerment. Whether working independently or alongside family, they opened some of the country’s most beloved bakeries and restaurants—bringing with them generations of inherited knowledge and a deep commitment to hospitality. Their food became not only nourishment, but narrative—a story of survival, creativity, and continuity. Three examples illustrate the depth and breadth of this legacy:
In Badguèr, a pink house built in 1930 in Bourj Hammoud, artist and chef Arpidé Mangassarian and her team have created a vibrant cultural haven. The space hosts exhibitions, workshops on Armenian crafts, and serves some of the most authentic Armenian dishes in Beirut. Decorated with crocheted tablecloths, patterned rugs, and a piano, Badguèr evokes the warmth of a classical Armenian dining room. On holidays and remembrance days—especially April 24, Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day—special menus commemorate the past while celebrating enduring tradition. Here, the labor and love of Armenian women are honored not just through food, but through art and memory.
In 1946, Arousaig Ishkanian realized the dream of her husband, Yeghia Ichkanian, by opening a modest bakery named Ichkhanian, in Zqaq el-Blat, Beirut. With limited resources and limitless faith, she sold her gold wedding bracelet to fund the venture. Known affectionately as “the Armenian lady,” Arousaig baked with devotion, serving generations of Beiruti families. After Yeghia and their son Jean passed away, Arousaig and her daughter-in-law Azad continued the business, eventually joined by her grandson Elie, who expanded to Jal el Dib. Through decades of change, the Ichkhanian Bakery has remained a family-run symbol of love, resilience, and culinary excellence.
In 2003, Aline Kamakian opened her restaurant Mayrig—meaning “little mother”—as a tribute to Armenian women and their culinary legacy. Located in Beirut’s Mar Mikhael neighborhood, Mayrig celebrates recipes passed down from mother to daughter, blending humble ingredients into refined, high-end dishes. The restaurant recreates the warmth of a grandmother’s kitchen, infusing every plate with memory and meaning. Aline’s success in Lebanon soon expanded globally, with branches in Armenia, Egypt, Switzerland, and the Maldives—turning Armenian cuisine into a global ambassador of culture, history, and resilience.
These women and many others transformed ancestral recipes into living traditions, elevating Armenian cuisine while forging spaces of belonging, remembrance, and innovation.
Armenian Cuisine in Times of Crisis: Expressions of Resilience
The 2020 Beirut Port Blast
On August 4, 2020, at 6:07 p.m., approximately 2,750 tons of unsafely stored ammonium nitrate exploded at the Port of Beirut. The blast—one of the largest non-nuclear explosions in modern history—left over 200 people dead, nearly 6,000 injured, and more than 300,000 displaced. It devastated large sections of the capital, causing an estimated $10 billion in damages and plunging Lebanon further into economic and emotional crisis.
Within 48 hours, as shock turned into collective action, residents from across Beirut—and even other cities—mobilized for cleanup and relief. The Armenian community, long familiar with hardship, stepped up once again with quiet determination. Despite deep trauma, they cooked, organized, and gave with all they had.
Among the most visible efforts was that of Aline, whose restaurant Mayrig—located less than a kilometer from the blast site—sustained heavy damage. Undeterred, Aline salvaged what she could and partnered with Chef José Andrés of World Central Kitchen and Kamal Mouzawak of Souk el Tayeb to transform Mayrig into a community kitchen. Together with her team, she began distributing nearly 2,000 hot meals a day to first responders, rescue tents, displaced families, and clean-up crews—ensuring that in a moment of national despair, no one went hungry.
In parallel, the Armenian Relief Society (ARS) launched immediate fundraising and volunteer efforts. Within hours of the explosion, women from the community—mothers, grandmothers, neighbors—gathered in kitchens to cook fresh meals and package them with care. These home-cooked dishes were delivered by volunteers to those near the port who had lost homes, livelihoods, and loved ones. Amid broken glass and rubble, they offered nourishment and comfort, fostering a spirit of solidarity and hope. Both Aline’s initiative and the ARS response exemplified the Armenian community’s ethic of collective care. Through food, they created moments of warmth in a shattered city—reminding Beirut, once again, of the strength that lies in shared meals and unwavering compassion.
The 2023-2024 War
Between October 2023 and November 2024, Lebanon was drawn into a protracted armed conflict between Hezbollah and Israel. The war escalated rapidly in September 2024, evolving into a full-fledged confrontation that resulted in over 4,000 deaths, 17,000 injuries, and the internal displacement of nearly 900,000 people. Once again, civilians bore the brunt of violence—uprooted from their homes in the South, the southern suburbs of Beirut, and parts of the Beqaa, and forced into a reality marked by fear, uncertainty, and loss.
The war struck a nation already reeling from a decade of economic collapse and the trauma of the 2020 Beirut Port Blast. Livelihoods crumbled, basic services faltered, and no region was truly safe. Even towns distant from the frontlines felt the vibrations of falling bombs. Amid these upheavals, Lebanese citizens faced two difficult options: flee abroad or stay and endure. Many Armenians, like their compatriots, chose to stay—and to act.
Armenian families, churches, and civil society organizations across Lebanon opened their doors to the displaced. In towns and neighborhoods where Armenians had built a community, they now extended support to others in need. Churches became makeshift shelters. Kitchens were revived as sites of care. Food, medicine, baby formula, blankets, and hygiene products were shared without hesitation.
Once again, women were at the heart of the response. Those who had cooked for relief workers after the 2020 blast returned to their kitchens, this time to feed displaced families from across Lebanon. The Armenian Missionary Association of America (AMAA) quickly mobilized its Lebanon Crisis Team, providing shelter and material assistance. Behind the scenes, much of this effort was led by women—rolling grape leaves, baking bread, preparing lentil soup—not just to fill stomachs, but to offer dignity, warmth, and a sense of continuity.
These acts of care transcended community lines. Women cooked for strangers as they would for neighbors, refusing to let fear or fatigue dull their compassion. In times of chaos, they turned domestic spaces into lifelines. Their hands told stories not only of survival, but of an enduring ethic of hospitality—one that insists on feeding others even while living under threat.
Conclusion: Armenian Women, Cuisine, and the Legacy of Resilience
For more than a century, the Armenian community in Lebanon has stood as a testament to survival, adaptation, and contribution. From the ashes of genocide and exile, Armenians rebuilt not only homes but a rich cultural presence—rooted in memory and shaped by renewal. At the heart of this story are the women who, through care and creativity, turned hardship into heritage.
Refusing to surrender to despair, Armenian women made resilience a way of life. Through food, they nourished both body and spirit—using recipes passed down through generations to preserve identity, express love, and sustain community. In times of peace, they cultivated culinary traditions that shaped Lebanon’s diverse food culture. In times of crisis—from the Beirut Port Blast to the 2023–2024 war—they transformed their kitchens into relief centers, offering comfort and dignity through every meal served.
Armenian cuisine became more than tradition—it became testimony. As women kneaded dough, stirred pots, and baked bread, they honored the stories of their ancestors while feeding the future. Through every plate, they told stories of survival, solidarity, and shared humanity. In doing so, they left a legacy not only of delicious food, but of unwavering compassion and strength.
Their work reminds us that resilience is not only found in political survival or material reconstruction—but also in the quiet, everyday acts of care that hold communities together. And in Lebanon, those acts often begin in the kitchen.
This article is part of a series of articles commissioned under the ‘Resilience and Inclusive Politics in the Arab Region’, generously funded by the Carnegie Corporation.