At Cleo, "the chicken is a vessel" for Lebanese flavors by way of London and West Hartford, family recipes, and community building.
Juliana Latif's Rotisserie Chicken at Cleo
Cleo’s seven-spice rotisserie chicken. All photography by Gabriella Pedro.

“The chicken is a vessel.”

When chef Juliana Latif first heard that phrase from Kip Green and Halley Chambers, the restaurateurs behind Margot and Montague Diner, following a research trip through London’s Lebanese rotisserie shops, she thought it sounded slightly delirious. “I thought Halley was jet-lagged,” Latif laughs. But the idea stuck. At Cleo, the new West Village restaurant from Three Top Hospitality, rotisserie chicken is the centerpiece around which a hearty meal is served: zhug, labne ranch, corn ribs, Fresno chile sauce, and oversized slices of cornbread included.

The restaurant, which opened last month on the corner of Hudson and Jane in the former home of Piccolo Angolo, marks a return for Latif. Before working in restaurant kitchens including NoMad and Zou Zou’s, she grew up in West Hartford above her family’s Middle Eastern grocery and takeaway counter, where her mother cooked. The biggest lesson Latif learned there? “Treat the neighborhood like family,” she says. 

At Cleo, the influence is apparent. Rotisserie chicken is dry-brined for 24 hours in a seven-spice blend inspired by the Lebanese flavors Latif grew up eating. Braised leeks arrive with tabbouleh, combining techniques from French-leaning kitchens with dishes that appeared at nearly every childhood family meal. Even the restaurant itself, a polished Downtown dining room built around one of the most familiar foods, strikes a balance between refinement and accessibility. 

CULTURED sat down with Latif to talk about how dinner services have been running, her inherited food traditions, and why no one should skip dessert. 

Juliana Latif's Cleo Salad
Cleo’s salad with citrusy greens and sumac vinaigrette.

Can you tell me a bit about the food world you grew up in?

I grew up in a very food-centric household. My parents owned a Middle Eastern grocery and takeaway counter in West Hartford, and by the time we were in high school, all of us had roles in the business. My mother was, and still is, the chef behind everything. She was always cooking, whether it was for the shop or dinner at home. It was impossible not to become interested in what she was doing.

My parents opened the store to bring a part of their culture to an area unfamiliar with it, which was definitely a risk at the time. Over the years, it became a neighborhood staple. That taught me to believe in what you’re building, take pride in it every day, and treat the neighborhood like family.

When did you realize cooking was something you wanted to do professionally?

I don’t think there was one moment where I realized it. I always wanted to become a chef, just like my mother. My brothers still remind me that when I was little and someone asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I immediately said, “A chef and a mom.” I started taking it more seriously in college. I took a lesson from my parents—take the risk and believe in yourself—and transitioned into culinary school.

What brought you to Cleo?

I had been working at a very large restaurant in Hudson Yards, Zou Zou’s, and I found myself wanting to get back to smaller neighborhood restaurants. Growing up in the family business and seeing the impact it had on the community made me want to reconnect with that kind of cooking and hospitality. I started working with the owners, Kip and Halley, about a year ago. Seeing how they ran their restaurants, I knew I had found what I was looking for.

Cleo's head chef Juliana Latif
Cleo’s head chef Juliana Latif.

Rotisserie chicken is such a familiar thing. What made it feel like enough to build a restaurant around?

The familiarity of rotisserie chicken aligned with how we wanted to enter the neighborhood. We wanted the restaurant to feel approachable and accessible, something that could naturally become part of the community. A perfect rotisserie chicken requires a lot of attention long before the cooking starts. If the chicken isn’t brined properly, flavors go missing. We dry-brine ours in a seven-spice blend for 24 hours before cooking.

What’s something you grew up eating that still finds its way into the way you cook now?

Chicken, definitely. My siblings and I used to joke that we ate chicken every single night, but my mother prepared it in so many different ways. When Kip and Halley returned from London, they told me their favorite place had been Toum, a Lebanese rotisserie spot. I happened to be heading to Connecticut for Christmas, and I kept thinking: What if we brought Lebanese flavors into Cleo? I was only home for three days, but every day we had chicken prepared differently: different sauces, different spices. After that, I knew we had to bring some of those flavors into the restaurant.

Cleo Restaurant Interior
Inside the West Village rotisserie.

Is there an item on the menu that feels especially personal to you?

The braised leeks with tabbouleh. It feels like a blend of my professional life and my personal life. In fine dining and French-leaning kitchens, leeks were always around, and I learned how incredible they can be when they’re cooked properly. Tabbouleh, on the other hand, was on the table almost every night growing up and constantly being made at the shop. I can still remember the smell of the huge cases of parsley my mother would wash, dry, and chop by hand.

If someone is coming to Cleo for the first time, how would you want them to move through the menu?

Always start with the cornbread. Don’t worry about the size—take the leftovers home. It makes an incredible breakfast the next day. Then the chicken, of course. I love it with the corn ribs and braised leeks. And absolutely do not skip dessert. The profiterole with soft serve and chocolate caramel sauce or the peanut butter chocolate sundae. Both are worth it.

You’ve worked in very different kitchens, from NoMad to Zou Zou’s. What stayed with you from those experiences?

At NoMad, I learned what attention to detail really means. At Zou Zou’s, I learned how much impact generous hospitality can have. Small pieces of every restaurant I’ve worked in show up at Cleo.

Juliana Latif's Branzino at Cleo
Branzino with beurre monté and urfa.

What’s a kitchen etiquette rule you live by?

Fold your towels. A cluttered workstation means a cluttered mind.

What’s the kitchen tool you use the most?

An offset spatula. You can use it for almost anything.

Breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

Dinner. Ending the day with someone you love over a delicious meal is good for the soul.

What do you want people to come back to Cleo for?

The branzino. It’s the sleeper hit on the menu. Nobody expects to order fish at the chicken restaurant, but it’s one of my favorite things we make.

 

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