Crystal Wise
In 1992, when Amin Mahmoud opened King Tut Restaurant on the Near Southside, there was no “Near Southside.” No fancy apartment buildings or hip barbecue joints or cool clubs or anything, really, that comes to mind when you think of the popular neighborhood that resides just south of downtown.
There was, however, a lot of potential, Mahmoud says, which led the native of Cairo and his wife, who hails from Algeria, to the pindot of a spot at 1512 Magnolia Ave.
Borrowing money from friends, taking out loans, and selling their belongings, the couple raised the needed $25,000 to open their Egyptian restaurant, one of the first new businesses to roll the dice on a dilapidated — and still a little dangerous — part of town.
“There wasn’t much here, a few restaurants, some bars; you didn’t want to walk around at night,” he says. “You’d hear gunshots; you’d see street gangs. It wasn’t a very encouraging area to open a restaurant. But we saw potential; we took a chance.”
Crystal Wise
Through good word of mouth and positive stories in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, word began to spread about King Tut’s scratch-made Egyptian food, a slight variation of Mediterranean cuisine. (The primary difference between the styles of food, Mahmoud says, is the spices used.)
Business picked up considerably when King Tut’s next-door neighbor, the fondly remembered punk rock club Mad Hatters, closed, allowing Mahmoud to expand the restaurant’s dining room. Where bands like Unwound, Boss Hog, The Offspring, and The Toadies once played is now an eating area with views of Magnolia Avenue.
By the time of King Tut‘s expansion, the restaurant had become a neighborhood fave for its cool and kitschy Egyptian decor but moreover for its excellent chicken shawarma. Still the restaurant’s most popular dish, it comes in the form of seasoned, diced chicken marinated with onions and tomatoes and served with your choice of fries or rice, plus warm pita bread, a side salad, and ridiculously addicting tahini sauce.
Other menu items include moussaka, a thick stew of ground sirloin and onions, with a choice of zucchini, okra, or eggplant, cooked in a tomato sauce; sandwiches made with lamb, beef, or chicken; and, among the half-dozen or so vegetarian options, falafel, made to order balls of chickpeas, fava beans, onions, leeks, parsley, and cilantro.
The restaurant’s take on pizza is an underrated gem. Made with thick naan bread, the 7-inch pies come in four varieties: beef, veggie, shrimp and chicken, each topped with mozzarella and a special sauce.
The restaurant’s current menu has changed little since the restaurant opened. One major change: You can now buy Mahmoud’s salad dressing by the bottle. He’s hoping to, one day, sell it at major grocery stores. “Hopefully, that’ll be how we can retire,” he says with a laugh.
That’s down the road, though, he says. Right now, he and his wife and their daughter, Hoda, still love working there.
“My daughter was three months old when we opened,” he says. “I remember how hard it was, having a family, running a restaurant, being a parent — it was a tough life. But it was what we wanted to do, and now we have so much to be thankful for. God has truly blessed us.”
Mahmoud says what gives him the energy to keep going, after 30 years, are the returning customers.
“I have people who come up to me and say, ‘I used to go to Mad Hatters when I was a kid, and I’d eat here all the time,’” he says. “And they’ll say, ‘I moved away for a while but could always remember how good your food tasted,’ and that just makes me feel so good, so wanted. That’s why we keep doing this.”
