Would you like a crash course in optimism that also happens to be a great meal? Find time for Shamiat, a little Syrian food empire in Northcote. This triple-pronged business is a hub for northside Arabs, a tasty and inexpensive gathering place for the broader community, and for the extended Abo family it's a daily gesture of love for their new homeland.

Shamiat is owned by Helda Almorani and Atallah Abo, a Syrian couple who arrived in Australia in 2016, fleeing disruption and conflict. They soon opened a modest restaurant and takeaway, building a northside fan base that kept returning for skewers and hummus, sustaining Shamiat through six lockdowns and instilling the confidence to expand.

Early in 2023, after months of renovations, the new Shamiat launched. The original shop is now a 100-seat BYO restaurant channelling a Damascene dining hall with mosaics, lanterns and sturdy timber furniture.

An adjoining sweet shop sells baklava, rice pudding and maamoul, a crumbly date-stuffed biscuit that begs to be eaten with black brewed coffee.

Next door again, a third premises houses a cafe, a meeting place between Melbourne and the Middle East with a menu that includes a vegan spread (olives, stuffed eggplants, hummus, pita) and a breakfast banquet for four with fried eggs, braised fava beans, falafel and more.

In each expression of Shamiat, Helda's food shines: unfussy, honest, generous, made with evident care and a sensitive touch. Back in Syria, she was a home cook of great renown, gathering recipes from her mother and grandmother, cooking with hand, eye and tongue rather than measuring spoons.

Fatteh, often a breakfast dish and available in cafe and restaurant, is a swooningly lovely layering of crunchy pita, chickpeas and lemony tahini-yoghurt sauce.

Mujadara is pure comfort, a humble rice dish studded with lentils and topped with fried onions.

Kibbeh comes in various forms, including "sagiah", a disc shape that sees crisp cracked wheat encasing fragrant spiced lamb.

Salads and vegetable dishes are wonderful. Tabbouleh is always an expression of the creator: how finely chopped the parsley and the proportion of grain to green are a subject of fierce aunty to aunty debate. Helda's version gives flat-leaf parsley a relaxed, fluttery chop; her salad is bright and crunchy.

Artichoke hearts are tumbled with garlic, lemon and the sumac that is such a feature of Syrian cooking.

It's all good: visit with a crowd to tackle the menu or ferry home leftovers.

The Syrian capital Damascus is an ancient habitation, extant since around 2000 BC, but over the past 12 years of civil war it's often been considered the world's least liveable city, wracked by unrest and destruction. The recent earthquake to the north only makes life harder.

It's bittersweet that people like Helda and Atallah left their troubled homeland for Melbourne, named the world's most liveable city seven years in a row. I'm glad they are safe, feeding the city, sharing their gifts.