In a space that feels like a stylish, homey living room, you’ll find the energetic chef expediting orders, sprinkling that last handful of nigella seeds, or greeting returning diners like family. Samir worked his way up through fine-dining ranks under chefs like Reem Assil, but always aspired to have a place to call his own. Beit Rima is indicative of how the next generation of chefs cooks unapologetically and authentically to their stories, and, in a city where the personal is political, Beit Rima deliciously weaves a multigenerational story with a captive, hungry audience.

It looks like Samir’s persistence has won his family over, as a second Beit Rima is in the works in Cole Valley, taking over—you guessed it—another now-retired Burgermeister. Like any local who loves to host, my favorites for a birthday or baby shower gathering include her fiery grilled jerk chicken thighs, and escovitch—pan-seared local trout topped with a confetti of hot and sweet peppers in a malt vinegar–based sauce. One last insider tip: Peaches Patties’ once-a-year jerk whole turkey is a welcome addition to any Friendsgiving table.

Where the neon lights dimmed on the Burgermeister on Church Street now shines Beit Rima. With his parents’ blessing, Chef Samir Mogannam reimagined this location of his family’s 20-year-old burger chain into a bustling spot—sweetly named after his mother, Rima—dishing up what he calls “Arab comfort food.” Eschewing the dilution inherent in the boundary-less umbrella term “Mediterranean,” Samir’s menu is a faithful homage to his Palestinian and Jordanian heritage.

My personal favorites include the meze sampler platter—the spicy-sweet muhammara, a red-pepper-and-walnut dip served with crunchy seasonal veggies and bright-pink pickles, is a standout—and the hummus ma’lehma (with spiced ground beef and pine nuts), which I usually pair with the creamy, tangy house-made labneh and a glass of minerally Palestinian white wine. Don’t miss the blistering-hot made-to-order pita with an ample dusting of za’atar, and hearty plates of perfectly charred yogurt-marinated chicken skewers atop Samir’s mother’s rice.