Content warning: This article contains photos and descriptions of delicious food. Don’t read on an empty stomach! If I asked you to picture an Armenian food event, the first thing to come to mind might be a family gathering during a holiday. Or perhaps an Armenian restaurant. But more likely, you’d picture a big, organized event like a church picnic, street festival, charity gala, social club luncheon or bake sale. While these kinds of events have preserved traditional recipes through the years and formed the basis of early Armenian food memories (or nightmares) for generations, a new kind of event has arrived on the scene: pop-ups. Since the pandemic, pop-up restaurants have grown in popularity across the country, allowing cooks to experiment with recipes, bring people together and share their food without needing a permanent space. This couldn’t be truer of the Armenian food pop-ups on the East Coast. These cooks are creating a sense of community through new formats, foods and locales that are accessible to Armenians and non-Armenians alike, sharing family favorites while also innovating them. With the season of outdoor dining and food festivals coming to a close, I interviewed four pop-up cooks about their culinary journeys, how cuisine can cross cultures and, of course, their favorite Armenian foods. These interviews have been edited for length and clarity. The founders Arianna Shaljian cooking (Photo by Geovanna Rivera) Sierra Quiros of Astoria, New York, founded Hamov Eh in 2020, offering catering services and frequently hosting “ Come Thru ” pop-up dinners in the Hudson Valley. Hamov Eh also catered Armenian Cultural Night at “ Meet the Cartozians .” Quiros said, “I named it Hamov Eh because that was what my grandma would say to me after she fed me. ‘ Hamové? ’ I wanted to take her with me on whatever food-journey was ahead.” Based in Miami, Maral Arslanian founded The Spicy Dolma in 2020, offering catering and a Mante subscription service . Arianna Shaljian hosts pop-up events throughout Brooklyn, New York, including a kebab pop-up in the park with Ani Avakyan . Based in Boston, Lala Thaddeus owns and operates Dar Cafe , where she runs supper clubs and teaches cooking classes. Dar, named after the Arabic word for “home,” began as a supper club in 2025, then ran as a pop-up residency at The Foundry in Cambridge for eight weeks this past spring. Yes, Chef Grandma! One interesting observation from these interviews is that none of these cooks considers themselves to be a “chef.” Thaddeus said, “There’s too much hierarchy associated with that term [chef]. I’m a cook and an event host. It’s a much more approachable title, which is a huge part of the ethos of Dar.” Arslanian said, “Absolutely not a chef, certifiably a passionate home cook.” While their passion and natural curiosity led them to diverse experiences in restaurants, bakeries and more, the original spark came from home, where parents and grandparents created and passed down incredible family recipes. “I am not a trained chef,” Shaljian said. “I grew up super interested in cooking and baking, always excited by the prospect of cooking with my family for holidays.” Sierra Quiros of Hamov Eh with her grandmother in her kitchen (Photo courtesy of Sierra Quiros) Quiros said, “My grandmother was an incredible cook, but a humble cook. She was Armenian, my only connection to our culture as a child. She spoke to me in Armenian, prayed in Armenian, told me stories of the Armenian Genocide, and loved me so, so hard. So that was my understanding of being Armenian — a deep love for culture, for food and for each other. A strength and resilience that keeps us alive. A knack for storytelling I haven’t been able to replicate, yet. Thanks to her, the kitchen was alive for me from a young age. I loved watching her hands. They were big, like mine are now, with strong nails and a gracefulness I hope to embody in my own cooking.” The motivating factor For many of them, the COVID-19 pandemic was an inflection point. As was the case for much of the world, they were forced into a period of isolation that pushed them to reflect on their passions and their longing for community. “The Spicy Dolma is a pandemic baby,” Arslanian said. “Stuck working from home…I found people needed a taste of home during isolation. Mante was the dish my Armenian friends always requested, so Mante I made. First month, a dozen —- then, two —- and that grew to a monthly waitlist of Mante newbies.” Shaljian said, “[During lockdown], I had started to develop and write down some word-of-mouth recipes from my family and created a living shared document that I sent to friends and family. Looking into the family recipes led me down a whole rabbit hole of Armenian diasporic cooking, and I started making things my family and I had never even heard of. With that project, I started sharing recipes and also food with friends and coworkers. I felt really moved by the whole experience and that’s when I started hosting cooking pop ups.” Falafel dish by Sierra Quiros of Hamov Eh for the Come Thru Foliage pop-up event in Hudson Valley, N.Y. (Photo courtesy of Sierra Quiros) When Quiros first founded Hamov Eh in 2020, she had a slightly different vision for it. “I started Hamov Eh with $500 and a dream of creating a product I could put on shelves,” she said. “Armenian flavors packed into tiny jars you could use as dip, spread, sauce or marinade…Turns out, I really didn’t like making the same product week over week. At its core, Hamov Eh is my creative outlet. It’s a place where I can explore flavors, textures, colors, cultures. I made a connection to a mixologist through mutual friends, and we decided to put together our first pop-up dinner, Come Thru. I’d already been dabbling in catering a bit, so it wasn’t too scary, but it was completely exhilarating.” Though not during the pandemic, Thaddeus was similarly inspired by a challenging time. She said, “I started hosting pop-ups, specifically supper clubs, as a way to connect people in my community to one another. 2025 was a difficult year for me professionally — I was trying to get out of freelancing, but the job rejections kept pouring in…and every single one of my employed friends was feeling a level of job insecurity, too, thanks to AI changing all industries. I wanted to meet people face to face, get to know them in a low-stakes environment, and maybe know them well enough to call them a friend. And I had a feeling others wanted this, too, which is how the supper club began. There’s no better way to get to know someone than over a shared meal.” Cross-cultural curation As they experiment with Armenian recipes, these cooks also embrace the history, culture and cuisine shared with the rest of the Middle East and beyond. Thaddeus said, “There’s a world of difference between what the diaspora considers Armenian food versus what people who grew up in Armenia consider to be Armenian food. Our food in the diaspora, especially for me being Iraqi and Armenian, is so heavily influenced by Middle Eastern techniques and flavors. I was shocked when I moved to Armenia in 2008 — the food there was so different. It lacked spice, involved a lot of cabbages and squashes and pork, which I’d barely ever eaten in my life. Armenian food in Armenia is much more influenced by Russian cuisine.” Shaljian said, “I think I am so culinarily inspired by the fact that Armenia sits in what feels like the middle of the Silk Road. So many Armenian foods have culinary cousins all the way from Asia to the Middle East.” Quiros attributes this to the tumultuous history of the Armenian people. Lala Thaddeus at the Dar Cafe residency at the Foundry in Cambridge, Mass. (Photo by Suhayl Barlow/@BirdOnFilm) “I wish people knew more about the resilience and depth of [Armenian] food: the ability to withstand centuries of oppression and attempted extermination, to absorb and shift around other cultures,” she said. The flexibility and short-term nature of pop-up events give these cooks the freedom to create deeply personal menus that reflect their family, friends and life experiences. I wish people knew more about the resilience and depth of [Armenian] food: the ability to withstand centuries of oppression and attempted extermination, to absorb and shift around other cultures. During Dar’s residency in Cambridge , Thaddeus served Iraqi and Armenian food, wanting “the cafe to be representative of me, my culture, and the food education I received living across the world…The recipes I cooked were passed down through generations and honed over years.” Maral Arslanian of The Spicy Dolma (Photo courtesy of Maral Arslanian) Similarly, Arslanian said, “I actually believe what we each consider to be Armenian food is fusion food. I was born in Argentina, grew up in Miami and have Armenian roots. My mom’s dad was born in Greece, my dad’s dad was born in Syria…all these places where we’ve — at some point up the family tree — landed have unquestionably influenced how we’ve developed our recipes. My lahmajun , for example: I developed a recipe that came closest to the flavors of the ones I grew up eating from Panaderia Armenia in Buenos Aires. Armenian food, to me, is whatever tastes like home.” Armenian food, to me, is whatever tastes like home. Quiros, who recently hosted “ Come Thru: Sabor Armenio ,” a pop-up in the Hudson Valley, said, “All of my pop-ups since my first one have been Latine-Armenian. I’m Irish, Armenian and Puerto Rican — a real New York mutt. My friend, Jorge, the mixologist from a couple of my pop-ups is Cuban. I wanted to fuse our cultures together in the creation of the menu. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized they fit so well — the Arab influence permeated Andalusi-Spainish food culture, and quickly, by colonization, Puerto Rico and so many other countries. You see the integration of spices and herbs commonly used in Caucasia and countries further east. It was really cool to start consciously seeing those ingredients together and creating hybrid dishes like a shawarma -marinated milanesa with a parsley and cotija salad.” Arianna Shaljian making lavash at the Ethiopian-Armenian event in Brooklyn, N.Y. (Photo by Geovanna Rivera) On co-hosting an Ethiopian-Armenian fusion pop-up event at Barzakh Cafe in Brooklyn, Shaljian said, “ Gelila [Feleke] is an Ethiopian friend of mine who cooks beautifully and reached out to me to do an Orthodox Easter event…We ended up not getting our planning together in time, so just decided to do a dual plate dinner later in the year. I think there is such a rich history between Armenia and Ethiopia, and I think traditionally both cuisines are built for sharing. I think the crossover was an homage to the breads, but also an opportunity to bring folks together to share a bite with one another.” I think there is such a rich history between Armenia and Ethiopia, and I think traditionally both cuisines are built for sharing. And bringing folks together is what they do. Building community is paramount for these pop-ups. “The beauty of events is that people get to hear the story behind the dishes,” Arslanian said. “My intention has always been to primarily introduce Armenian flavors to people who have never experienced them, in settings that aren’t the ‘norm.’” Thaddeus said, “Armenian food pop-ups can introduce our cultural dishes to a new audience willing to try something new, without holding the foods to a standard of ‘authenticity.’” Shaljian said, “Overall I feel like I’m just trying to do something that I would love to experience. I feel like we have been really trapped in either restaurant experiences or casual friends and family events. I love the idea of bringing people together to experience food in a new way.” Armenian food pop-ups can introduce our cultural dishes to a new audience willing to try something new, without holding the foods to a standard of ‘authenticity.’ A labor of love One thing has remained the same: Making Armenian food is a labor of love. Whether rolling out uncooperative dough or making the smallest of folds, this cuisine involves a high degree of skill, effort and time. Thaddeus said, “[Some]thing I wish people knew about Armenian and Iraqi food in general is that it takes so much skill and time to make it. Our foods are typically seen as ‘cheap’ (think shawarma, lahmajun, falafel) and not worth paying much for, but the reality is that we have a complex cuisine that focuses on tons of fresh produce and a lot of skill to master…I want to create a space for Armenian food to be seen as ‘high cuisine,’ too.” Arslanian said, “I think people underestimate the amount of time a lot of our dishes take to prepare. Something like stuffed grape leaves ( dolma or sarma …depending on who you’re talking to), which is a dish we see canned at Trader Joe’s and sold for two bucks, can be a three-day process when homemade.” Perhaps that is why mante (or manti ) is a favorite dish among these cooks: it’s the ultimate labor of love. Its distinctive shape is recognizable regardless of how you prefer to eat it. Sierra Quiros of Hamov Eh catering an Evening on the Plaza event at St. Vartan in New York City (Photo courtesy of Sierra Quiros) Quiros said, “My favorite Armenian foods to make are zhingalov hats and manti . My grandmother never made these foods growing up — for her it was mostly pilaf , kuku , pakhlava , keftes , moussaka , etc.” Shaljian said, “I think manti is my favorite food to eat and make, it’s so delicious but also it’s a meditative experience that I look forward to doing with friends. I grew up rolling dolma with my aunts, uncle and sisters when I was a kid, and it is such a beautiful strong memory for me. I love a stuffed parcel, especially when you’ve finally got in the zone and start moving like a machine. Manti has the same communal effort, but I feel like less people have tried them, so it is more exciting to make for others. I had manti at Al Mayass in Gramercy (RIP) and the server told me they make them so small because ‘the smaller you make them, the more love goes into them.’ Every time my sister and I make them together, we end up just trying to make the smallest possible. It’s sweet and fun.” Thaddeus said, “My favorite Armenian food to eat is manti , specifically the open eye-shaped manti , baked to a crisp, served with a little chicken broth and yoghurt and sumac. They’re so time-consuming to make! I have to wait to eat them until I visit Armenia every year.” I think manti is my favorite food to eat and make, it’s so delicious but also it’s a meditative experience that I look forward to doing with friends. And even though she runs a Monthly Mante Club, Arslanian said, “I can’t say that making mante is my favorite. Those who have ventured in the task know it is a true labor of love. But eating it?! Yes, all day. I think we can all agree that the result makes it all worth it. What I love about it is that each person has their own preferred preparation. My bowl looks like a pile of extra crispy mante on a bed of garlicky yogurt; mint and sumac are sprinkled over top; then finally a big ladle of piping-hot chicken broth drowns them. Like nothing you’ve ever tasted…every.single.time.” The next course As we move from the end of a season toward the end of the year, I asked what they’re cooking up next and what they envision for the future. Lala Thaddeus of Dar teaching a baklawa and knefeh class at the Cambridge Center for Adult Education (CCAE). (Photo courtesy of CCAE) Thaddeus has many upcoming events in the works at Dar, including supper clubs and cooking classes. Her long-term goal? “Each pop-up and cooking class I’m hosting now is essentially raising funds to one day open up my own space.” In October, Shaljian heads to Armenia for Birthright, where she will stay through the end of the year. Leading up to it, she’s been also working on a few events. “Now that pop-ups are more common and spaces are easier to access, I have started scaling back the production and focusing a bit more on trying new culinary ideas. I really just love to feed people; I love cooking something delicious and having folks come out to try it. One day I’ll write a cookbook — even if it’s just for friends and family. I would love — down the line — to have a restaurant honestly. I love hospitality endlessly.” Arslanian is currently in reflection mode with The Spicy Dolma. “I am quite a chameleon all week, wearing many hats with multiple passions beneath them. Each year I take some time to regroup, let dust settle and try to figure out what the next step is to continue to love the path. That’s where I’m currently at. Cooking classes and experiences are high up on the priority list to finally launch…Publishing a cookbook is a big dream of mine. But does anyone know how you start writing a recipe when you don’t use recipes? Help!” Quiros is “always on the prowl for a new spot in the city to do a pop-up event!” For her, “having anything tangible — a following, an audience, a fan base, something to call my own like a cookbook — would be incredible, but it isn’t vital to why I cook or what I’m doing. I’m just doing what I love. I’m so fortunate to have people who have believed in me at all. I’d love to continue to cook, to share the joy of cooking with other people, to encourage people to get in their own kitchens. Use your hands, get messy, dig in. Learn from people.” To learn more about their upcoming pop-up events, classes and more, follow them on Instagram: Dar Cafe , The Spicy Dolma , Hamov Eh , Arianna Shaljian . The post Four Armenian food pop-ups building community on the East Coast appeared first on The Armenian Weekly .