Smokin’: Paymon Raouf brings Middle East culture, food to Las Vegas

Ken Miller

Wednesday, April 14, 2004 | 8:16 a.m.

He should know. For three years he had no rights whatsoever. He couldn't drive a car; he couldn't own property; he couldn't get married; couldn't leave his country.

Raouf, a former citizen of Iran, took the worst life has to offer and created one of Las Vegas' most distinctive and respected restaurants, Paymon's Mediterranean Cafe & Lounge.

The eatery at 4147 S. Maryland Parkway (a second was opened less than two months ago at 8380 W. Sahara Ave.) consists of four main sections in the Tiffany Square Shopping Center, each added on as space became available.

A gourmet market offers Mediterranean-themed groceries and spices; a main dining area provides ample seating and plenty of elbow room between tables. A courtyard area contains a fountain and faux trees in its center, with dark hues contrasting with beige terra cotta tile.

But it is the fourth area that Raouf is most eager to display: a hookah lounge, complete with a "hookah man" who comes around to each table with a wide variety of tobacco flavors, including banana, vanilla, cherry, cola, mint, melon, apple and more. (Raouf is quick to point out he doesn't smoke, and that the tobacco used in his establishment has no tar and miniscule amounts of nicotine.)

It's a unique locale, even for Las Vegas, and Raouf conceded it was a gamble.

But Raouf has made it his goal to take as many risks as possible. In a city that can be unkind to independent restaurants, Raouf recently expanded operations.

And in his leisure time (which isn't plentiful), he can be found off-roading in his Jeep. It's a bit beaten up, and he admits his wife and daughter "aren't too crazy about it, but I love it."

"Enjoy life as you can, because time flies by," Raouf said. "Money isn't everything. Achieving your goals is much better."

Where there's smoke ...

Raouf was born Sept. 17, 1962, in Iran, and his life in Iran was, for the most part, traditional including his exposure to the hookah pipe, which Raouf called "the Starbucks of the Middle East."

"When I was a kid, I used to make the hookah for my father when he got home from work," Raouf said. He became fascinated with hookahs, and has an extensive collection at his Maryland Parkway restaurant.

As he pointed to his collection ones from Syria, Saudi Arabia and Greece, among other regions Raouf gushed with the enthusiasm of a sports enthusiast showing off his baseball-card collection.

"It's so cool," he said. "I always wanted to introduce the hookah to American culture, but I wanted to get in to the fun side."

The hookah offered at his establishment is a purely sensory experience, he said. Regular smoking is allowed, but cigars are not, as they overpower the scents from the other tobaccos.

In other words, if you're looking for the authentic hookah experience, look elsewhere. "The type of tobacco used in the Middle East is way harsher than the type used at my restaurant. I never actually smoked (a traditional hookah) until I got over here. The one time I tried it, I choked and said, Never again.'"

Learning to create

Raouf had nearly no exposure to the restaurant experience as a child.

"In Iran, restaurants are not a necessity," he said. "I'd say 99.9 percent of dining is done at home."

But that meant more time to spend with his mother while she prepared the family's meals.

"She cooked with so much love," he remembers. "Sometimes she spent six hours just preparing lunch. Persian cooking is very complicated."

Canned food was in short supply; everything Raouf learned to cook came from scratch.

Highlights of his restaurant's menu -- fesenjan (a boneless chicken breast cooked with crushed walnuts in a semisweet pomegranate sauce), baklava and rice pudding -- are recipes Raouf grew up with as a child, and are all made from scratch.

The rest of his time was spent in school and traveling during school vacations. His main interests growing up revolved around, as he called it, "building things. I liked to create new things."

After he finished high school, Raouf attended drafting school, drawing blueprints by hand and putting his creative ambitions to work.

His father, Reza, a prosperous banker, could afford to take his family on trips all over Europe.

"I got familiar with other cultures -- England, France, Germany," Raouf said.

Once he had a taste of life beyond his own country, he wanted only to leave.

He would have to wait until he was 25.

Life, interrupted

Everything being equal, Raouf said he would have pursued economy and business in college -- in America.

But everything was far from equal by the time he graduated: At age 17, Raouf was drafted by the Iranian Army for a mandatory two-year tour of duty.

Raouf stalled for time, opening a small appliance store under his father's name.

He stayed there three years, always hoping for a miracle.

"I didn't want to go, but to leave the country you have to serve," he said. "I just wanted to change my life."

So, at age 20, Raouf enlisted. "My mother and father cried so much that day. They didn't want me going in either."

He received three months training to be a medic and was sent to the front lines. Because of a change in policy after his initial drafting, his tour lasted six months longer than the two-year minimum. His tour came toward the beginning of a bloody 10-year war between Iran and Saddam Hussein's forces, and his medical training was put to good use.

"I did stitching and even pulled teeth," Raouf said. "I became good at it."

To make life a little easier, Raouf made his food for himself and 12 other medics.

"Your mother is not there, and army food sucks," he said. "I cooked easy dishes, kabobs, whatever we could get. It was very much appreciated."

When it came time to leave (he was injured toward the end of his service), Raouf applied to the United Nations as a political asylum refugee. He remembers his country making it as hard for him to leave as possible.

"It wasn't a conflict to leave, but they throw a lot of stress at you so you can't or don't want to leave," he said.

He spent two years in Turkey waiting to be sent to a host country. In 1987 he was sent to the United States -- specifically, Las Vegas, "because there were a lot of opportunities there." Catholic Charities of Southern Nevada sponsored him, a favor he continues to repay through his charity donations.

Starting from scratch

By the time he arrived stateside Raouf's perspective had shifted significantly. No longer were economics his priority; he now wanted to draw on his war experience and become a dentist.

First he would have to learn English. He immediately began taking classes at the Community College of Southern Nevada and got a job so he could pay rent.

One job eventually became two, as he worked as a busboy for eight hours at the Tropicana, then went to work scrubbing pots at the Imperial Palace. All travel was by bus, since he couldn't afford a car. Between school and work, Raouf was getting between three and four hours of sleep a night, living in a small apartment "with roaches as big as pigeons."

It took about nine months for Raouf to get a solid command of English, and after a year and a half of working two jobs, he and his older brother, Payam Raouf, opened a grocery store, with each kicking in $6,000 -- the beginning of the Maryland Parkway restaurant.

Payam moved on after a year (he is currently working in real estate in Las Vegas), and Paymon began to expand his business, initially selling sandwiches in his market.

The first few years were nothing but a learning experience for Raouf, who found his customers to be the best teachers.

"I was learning all these dishes from housewives who came to buy groceries," he said. "They would come and say, 'Do you have this?', and I wouldn't know what they were talking about. They would show me how to make it, and I added it to the menu."

From 1988 to 1995, Raouf expanded his menu from four items to 22, and added the restaurant portion in 1989. During this time he met and married Fariba Shirazi in 1990, who was attending UNLV at the time. She helped out at the restaurant in their early married years, and graduated with a degree in radiology in 1995. She's now in real estate.

In 1995 the adjacent shop in Raouf's shopping center became available, and he wasted no time in taking advantage. The courtyard became a huge success with his regular customers, and he added yet another wing in 1998. Originally used for catering events, Raouf converted it to the Hookah Lounge in 2001.

And Raouf discovered he could still use his passion for building things. He created -- and patented -- a special light for his hookah lounge, which attaches to his tables and causes the hookah to alternate between various colors.

Positive outlook

If Raouf's restaurants were to close tomorrow, nothing in his life would change.

"I'd go into real estate," he said. "You wouldn't see me just sitting in my car. I'd be out in the community."

His positive outlook comes partly from the fact that he doesn't have to worry about his family anymore. His three sisters left Iran soon after he did, and they now live in Washington, D.C., Canada and Germany.

The last holdouts were his parents, who moved to Las Vegas eight years ago.

"We didn't want to go back to visit them," Raouf said. "We wanted to be close, so they chose to move."

His mother, now 63, helps out at the restaurant from time to time, "but because she'd been working all her life, she's worn out. My mother still makes fesenjan here when she can."

And Raouf has started his own family as well. His daughter, Jasmine, is now 9 years old, and Raouf wants for her what he feels he never had: freedom to choose.

"All parents would love to see their kids get educated first, and then get to what they want to do," Raouf said.

He added he won't be pushing his daughter toward the restaurant business, however.

"She comes to the restaurant and likes to learn. If she wants to do it, I would love it, but you absolutely have to love this business, because it's so much hard work," he said. "There are months you take money out of your pocket to make it happen."

Labor's fruits

Raouf has much to be proud of in his 17 years in Las Vegas.

His Maryland Parkway restaurant has expanded to 45 employees, and the Sahara Avenue location employs 50.

He's more than filled his mantle with awards, including Restaurateur of the Year from the Nevada Restaurant and Hotel Association, two Golden Spoon Awards and many others.

But he's reticent to take credit for anything.

"Without a good team, some things are impossible," he said.

Raouf partially credits his success to the time he spends as a member of the Nevada Restaurant Association, traveling to Washington and meeting with members of Congress.

"Giving your time to the industry is very important," he said.

He feels his time spent as a member of the community has immensely helped build his clientele. Almost all his business is by word of mouth, and the majority of his business is local.

"No one who comes here is my customer," Raouf said. "They are my friends."

And for Raouf, the long journey to Las Vegas was worth the sacrifice.

"I miss my friends in Iran, I miss my school, but America is a magnet," he said. "Wherever you live, you can't live with the old lifestyle anymore. Within a few months, it becomes home."

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