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In an hour or so, Nehme Elbitar needs to tend to a catering job at the Chadra Mezza restaurant he and wife Christina run on Fort Worth’s Near Southside. Then, he’ll become chef Nehme again. Right now, it’s farmer Nehme and dogcatcher Nehme, Christina teases. Their dog, a friendly German shepherd with a pleading face, named Timber, has wandered outside the gate of the couple’s farm. That’s right, farm. The couple earlier this year bought a hilly 7.5-acre spread inside Loop 820 in southeast Fort Worth, with a turnkey 2,800-square-foot farmhouse, that sports views of a lush valley and downtown Fort Worth. They sold their home in Fort Worth’s Ryan Place and moved in March — shortly after farmer Nehme planted the olive trees that were then killed by the big winter freeze.
“It was meant to be, Scott,” Christina says, resting on the living room couch that the couple kept in their garage at Ryan Place for two years because it wouldn’t fit through the door. “There is no other reason. Sometimes, I feel just so transported here. We still can’t come up with a name for our little hideaway. We’re trying to come up with a good name.”
It was just before Christmas when Christina, who’d been fantasizing about land in Fort Worth for two years, sat down and trolled real estate listings online when she found this one:
Built 1948. 7.5 acres. Three bedrooms, three baths. 2,800 square feet. Big living areas. Guest house. Barn. Pond. Lots of trees. Lots of area to build gardens. Plenty of space for Chadra Mezza’s catering vehicles. Deck facing downtown and sunrises. Deck facing the other direction and sunsets. Metal roof, impenetrable by Texas hail.
Short drive to the restaurant. Even shorter drive to the Mexican grocery market Christina loves to shop. Plenty of room for a pool, except that Nehme keeps plopping down a new garden on top of all those spots. (For the Elbitars’ privacy, the magazine isn’t identifying the neighborhood or street.)
A call to the couple’s Realtor followed, and another to their banker, who verified the Elbitars were preapproved. The Elbitars got in to tour the home just after Christmas. Beating one other offer, they went under contract around New Year’s.
“I knew something like this could possibly exist,” Christina says. “I just never thought that we would find it, and in our price range.”
Nehme’s mother, who lives with the couple and once foraged in the mountains behind the family home in Lebanon, quickly made use of a small chain saw, cleared the overgrowth of trees on the property’s perimeter, and dragged the limbs into a pile.
Nehme put his gardens in, and they’ve thrown off corn, garbanzo beans, tomatoes, squash, fava beans, okra, berries, and more. So far, none of the produce has made its way into the restaurant’s cooking. Nehme plans to replant olive trees and wants to produce an olive oil.
“I don’t know if you eat tomatoes like we do,” Nehme says, producing a bowl of cherry tomatoes, pushing one into his mouth, and offering the bowl to his guest.
The property represents more than just a place to grow produce, park the restaurant’s vehicles, and have a dog. It’s an opportunity the Elbitars are taking to force themselves to dial it down.
Chadra Mezza has been in business for almost 20 years, first across from John Peter Smith Hospital. Then in January 2008, amid the severe economic downturn, the couple moved it to Park Place and Eighth avenues, nestled at the center of some of the Southside’s most mature neighborhoods. The couple’s catering business grew. They were able to make an offer on their building and buy it.
But after nearly 20 years of restaurants, the last year and a half framed by COVID-19, the Elbitars were tired.
Business before COVID-19 was robust. “We were going to start saying no to things,” Christina says. “We had two bouts of sleeping three days straight because we were so exhausted.”
Then COVID-19 hit. After closing the dining room during part of last year for remodeling, the Elbitars reopened to indoor seating just four days a week, closed Sunday – Tuesday and leaving more time for catering and downtime.
The couple before COVID-19 employed 27. Today, it’s 11, plus the Elbitars. Sales this year were 30% of 2019s. “That’s crazy,” Nehme says.
With dining rebounding after COVID’s peak, the Elbitars could justify hiring more people right now — but only if they opened more than four days per week, “which we’re not doing,” Nehme says, wagging his finger, no. They’re also having trouble finding labor, he says, attributing that to government unemployment benefits creating a disincentive.
The couple’s enjoying their new life’s balance, Nehme says. They’ve got more time to spend on a side business, flipping houses. And they’re fostering two young children, possibly to adopt.
“We’re enjoying this,” Nehme says. “It’s giving us time to concentrate on the other business, the houses, and here, and us, and the babies. So COVID was a good thing for us. COVID made us realize that, hey, slow down.”