Frank Abraham’s Taza 21 bucks the American trend of overabundance. ‘Taza is the Arabic word for… Frank Abraham’s Taza 21 bucks the American trend of overabundance. ‘Taza is the Arabic word for ‘fresh’ … and you will taste it in every sandwich!’ The menu, the same bright yellow as the walls at Taza 21, is an honest advertisement of the restaurant’s focus. But its fresh-and-made-to-order mantra is not showily underlined by overflowing baskets of fruit or oversized sandwiches or gaudy displays of plenty in the way we have come to expect from grocery stores and restaurants. Instead, Taza 21 is a study in Goldilocks’ ‘just right.’ The cafe could easily fit into one of the ground floor hallways in the Cathedral of Learning. Tucked between a salon and an eyewear shop, Taza 21, a ‘schwarma cafe,’ occupies a narrow space that allows a dining area made cozy and barely navigable by five tables. Though probably fewer than 13 feet wide, the cafe stretches back for some length, an ample kitchen visible from the front counter that separates the store into two halves. Looking over Abraham’s shoulder you can see the modest pile of bananas, carrots and apples next to a shining fruit juicer, ready to be made into any number of the freshly squeezed juices Taza 21 makes to order. Two vertical rotisseries revolve slowly with hunks of lamb and chicken, meats identifiable even at 20 yards, unlike the conglomerate meats offered at chain gyro and schwarma shops. Upon entering, three giant menu boards arrest the hungry customer’s attention. Offerings ranging from meat and vegetarian sandwiches ($6-$7) to salads and soups ($2.50), yogurt drinks ($2.50), milk and honey fruit cocktails ($4.00), desserts and Arabic coffee ($2.50) made it difficult to decide what to order. But taking another look at the paper menus offered on the counter, I decided to go with Taza 21’s specialty, the schwarma. After all, I had to investigate what was deemed a ‘schwarma experience.’ Why just have a sandwich when an experience beckons? And because daily specials offer a good look at a restaurant, I decided on the chicken-and-lamb schwarma advertised on the board outside. ‘Chicken or lamb,’ corrected Abraham. I sputtered, apologizing and explaining I thought it was both on the board. He stopped me. ‘Well, you can half and half if you’d like.’ He smiled. I thought it was a brilliant plan and happily retired to my red vinyl-covered table. My dining companions chose the falafel wrap ($6.00) and a lamb schwarma ($7.00), with a cucumber sauce to accompany it. Open six days a week ‘mdash; the cafe closes on Mondays ‘mdash; Taza 21 was relatively quiet on a Saturday afternoon. A couple, still wearing their coats despite the warmth of the restaurant, quietly munched on tabouli salad and split a wrap. The restaurant was not playing music and the flat screen installed above the counter seemed a black hole in the company of the highly spirited primary colors that defined walls and ceiling. Despite the lack of ambient sound, Taza 21 felt insulated from the street, even the noise of the buses passing by failed to penetrate the lazy-afternoon atmosphere. While we waited, Abraham bustled about the kitchen, carefully slicing bits of meat from the rotisseries, frying the falafel and giving the cucumber sauce a bit of a stir before handing us our sandwiches. Pressed, whole wheat wraps contained the smell of fresh parsley, tomato and tahini sauce layered over the hot lamb and chicken, a mouth-watering concoction. Though a bit dry, the lamb had a deep, rich flavor that was offset by the light cucumber sauce. My date’s falafel was one of the best I have ever tried ‘mdash; a light crunch preceded a moist and spicy cake of chickpea, accompanied by lettuce, tomatoes, chopped pickles and parsley. We lingered over lunch, almost unable to finish our sandwiches. Deceivingly small compared to the monstrous size of other sandwich establishments, they were packed with meat and vegetables, making for a lunch that kept me full until well into the evening. It would be easy to overlook the cafe if you were intent upon reaching the Giant Eagle or the 61C Cafe for an afternoon coffee. But the bright yellows and reds of the storefront make Taza 21 a place that grows on the habitual stroller. After 8 1/2 months of calling Murray Avenue home, the foot traffic has increased. ‘After a few passes, people come in to check us out,’ said Abraham as he rang up my order. Unlike many lunch joints, customers do not pay until the end of their meal at Taza 21. Abraham hovers protectively nearby, making sure everything is to one’s liking. When you pay, he will ask again what you thought. It wasn’t difficult to answer happily that it was one of the most delicious lunches to be found in Pittsburgh.