I came to meet Joseph on a Thursday, which turns out to be the right night to meet Zali. There's a live musician named Adam playing in the back, a couch section filling up, people drifting in and out with drinks in their hands, catching up like they never left. Before we even start, Joseph hands me a flower.
"It's just part of our Lebanese hospitality."
I laugh at his funny, almost pretentious grand gesture. "My name is Joseph. I am one of the owners at Zali," he says once we settle. "Been here since day one." Tonight is a big night, technically a late one: Zali is turning five. "Selamat Lima Tahun," he says, grinning, before switching back. The actual date was the week before, but the party landed on a Thursday so everyone could make it.
Who is Liza?
You cannot understand Zali without understanding Liza.
"Zali was inspired, or is inspired, still, by Liza. She's one of the coolest women you will ever meet."
Liza Maalouf is a Lebanese-Armenian chef, mother and grandmother who spent most of her life in Lebanon, and by every account I could find, she is the actual heartbeat of this place. She's also the mother of Joseph's childhood best friend, Ibrahim, whom everyone calls Bibo.
"She's kind of like my mom," Joseph says, "the way Lebanese moms" (he pauses to get it exactly right) "you can't leave a table before finishing your plate and eating and getting full." When he was a kid, Sundays meant going to Liza's house for an enormous feast. Not even mostly Lebanese food, he tells me. Barely any. Just everything, all the time, made by a woman who loved feeding people. Years later, that memory is basically the entire business plan.
I checked the name, because it's too neat to not check: Liza is an anagram of Zali. Same four letters, flipped.
"Rhyming with Bali. Four letters. Sounds super cool."
He's right. The name was the last thing they decided, after months of searching. The woman came first. The word came from her.
A joke that wasn't
Here's how a restaurant actually gets born. In 2020, Joseph (a mechanical engineer by training, of all things) was in Bali. "I arrived on vacation, and I got stuck," he says. "I mean like, happily stuck." One of the lucky ones on the island during Covid. And he was missing his food. "That's really how. It's as simple as that. It was not planned."
So he did what you do. He spotted a shop for rent in Berawa, where he was living, and sent it to Bibo and Liza. "How about opening a restaurant for Lisa here? This place is for rent." They called him back. Are you joking, or is this serious?
"It can be serious, and it can be joking. What do you want it to be?"
They wanted it to be serious. Joseph started doing market research, wandering around looking at spots, noticing something strange: for an island this full of expats and tourists, there was no proper Lebanese restaurant. Then he found Pererenan. "I fell in love with Pererenan," he says. "It was such a cool town at the time. Plenty of green and rice fields." The concept, the team, the recipes, the menu, all of it came together before they even had a name.
What almost stopped it wasn't the food or the money. It was Beirut. In August 2020, the explosion at the port tore through the city, and everyone in the group took a hit from it. "We weren't sure if we're still going to do it," Joseph tells me, quieter now. Then they had another meeting.
"We decided, actually now, we're going to go for it. More than before."
They signed the lease in Bali that same month. They launched on June 23, 2021. One week later: another Covid lockdown. "That was crazy," Joseph says, looking back. "It's been quite a journey."
The rebel teenager
Joseph likes to talk about Zali as if it's a person growing up, and after a while I start doing it too. "From a baby crawling, to trying to walk, to falling down because it's lockdown, to getting back up," he says, narrating the first five years like a proud, slightly exhausted parent. Which, in fairness, he is.
"Zali is a teenager now. It's a rebel."
Five in restaurant years is basically fifteen, and he means it as a compliment: the place has evolved into itself, organically, at its own pace. He credits a lot of that to the thing he cares about most, which surprised me given he has no formal food background. "One of my passions is community," he says. "Bringing people together. Connecting people." That's the second pillar, right after the food. You feel it in the layout: an open space, an open door, people wandering through. "Just like a typical Lebanese home," he says.
Running that home with your childhood best friends and their mother is, I ask him, presumably hard? "It's definitely hard. That's the straight answer," he says. "But if you want to create a beautiful project, it's not going to be easy, otherwise it wouldn't be worth it." His business partners are Bibo and Joelle, Liza's son and daughter, plus another childhood friend, Chakib.
"Lisa is like a mom, so I cannot upset her, she'll slap me."
The tension is real but affectionate: "She wants to make burgers for everyone and make pizzas all the time, and I'm like, oh, I wish. First, I'm going to get fat. Two, we need to make money also." Then he softens. "The respect and the love and the vision is always at the center, and we never lose sight of that." Ask the staff why they work here, he says, and a lot of them will just tell you: Liza.
What to order, according to a founder
I make him do the impossible and recommend something. "That's a hard question, because everything is good," he protests, then gives in. The real answer is to come as a group and share: the hummus, the tabbouleh, the baba ghanoush, the shawarma, the chicken and rice, the steak skewers, the kebbeh. The menu is built to flow from mezze to salads to the saj (that's the bread and shawarma station) to the bowls.
The bowls are for people like me, apparently.
"That's what I eat when I don't want to share."
A single bowl still gives you five or six things at once. And when he wants something else entirely? The homemade main dishes, "the ones your mom cooks usually." That's what he orders, he says, "when I want to really feel like I'm in Lebanon."
Big dreams, Bali pace
I ask about the future and Joseph immediately reaches for the family metaphor again. "We have to see the teenager becoming an adult," he says. The teenager already has a younger sibling in Uluwatu ("just finished crawling, it's walking now") and a branch in Abu Dhabi. There are ideas about more Bali, more Asia, more everywhere. And then, almost as a note to self: "I tend to get too excited. I'm learning to calm down and be more patient."
He credits the island for that.
"Bali teaches you that. The Bali pace. Take it easy. When it's the right time, it will happen."
Coming from a man who's been a mechanical engineer, a DJ, a footballer, a football coach and now a restaurateur, learning to slow down feels like the hardest recipe of all.
Before I leave, he says the line that stays with me. Of all the places it could have happened, Bali was "just the perfect place for Zali to be born, and celebrated at five years." A joke that wasn't a joke, a mother who never planned to leave her kitchen, a city that fell apart the month they committed anyway. Five years later the door is still open, Adam is still playing, and there's a flower in my hand. Happy Lima Tahun, Zali.
Zali is a Lebanese restaurant in Bali inspired by Lebanese-Armenian home chef Liza Maalouf (" Liza"), founded by Joseph Ghantous with Liza's children Ibrahim ("Bibo") and Joelle and childhood friend Chakib. It launched in Pererenan on 23 June 2021 and celebrated its fifth anniversary in June 2026. Expect homestyle Lebanese sharing plates, saj bread, mezze and bowls, a house mouneh pantry, and live music on Thursdays. Zali Pererenan, Jl. Pantai Pererenan No.152, Pererenan, Kec. Mengwi, Badung, Bali. Open daily 8am to 12am. +62 812 3900 3100. Also in Uluwatu (Bali) and Abu Dhabi. zalirestaurant.com · @zali.inbali
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Zali in Bali?
Zali is a Lebanese restaurant in Pererenan, Bali, serving homestyle sharing plates, saj bread, mezze and bowls. It was inspired by Lebanese-Armenian home chef Liza Maalouf, known as "Liza," and launched on 23 June 2021.
Who is Liza, and who founded Zali?
Liza Maalouf is a Lebanese-Armenian home chef whose Sunday feasts inspired the whole restaurant, and her name is an anagram of Zali. It was founded by Joseph Ghantous alongside Liza's children Ibrahim ("Bibo") and Joelle and childhood friend Chakib.
Where is Zali in Pererenan, and what are the opening hours?
Zali is at Jl. Pantai Pererenan No.152, Pererenan, Kec. Mengwi, Badung, Bali, and is open daily from 8am to midnight. It can be reached on +62 812 3900 3100, and there are also branches in Uluwatu and Abu Dhabi.
What should you order at Zali?
Founder Joseph Ghantous recommends coming as a group and sharing across the menu — the hummus, tabbouleh, baba ghanoush, shawarma, chicken and rice, steak skewers and kebbeh. Solo diners can order a bowl, which still brings five or six things at once, or the homestyle main dishes for a taste of Lebanon.
Is there live music at Zali?
Yes — Zali hosts live music on Thursday nights, with an open, living-room-style layout built around bringing people together. The atmosphere is modelled on a typical Lebanese home with an open door.
