A funny thing happened on my way to Maroush.

Well, it wasn’t so much funny, but frustrating.

Although I managed to arrive early for this lunch date, I got hung up on a phone call, during which time my companion arrived and stood there, waiting politely, as I tried to extricate myself from the conversation as gently as possible.

I felt badly that I was making him wait. I felt badly that my despair was on full display. And I felt badly, even as we finally began what was supposed to be a nice lunch in the middle of a work day, that I was carrying the weight of the experience with me.

But then another funny thing happened once I got inside Maroush.

I felt better.

This was a combination of things, including my friend’s understanding that I was buoyed from a stressful experience, but also the smell of fresh herbs, of fire-kissed meats, of fresh-baked bread. Soothing smells that were only reinforced as hot poufs of pita were delivered to the table, torn and swept through dishes of creamy hummus($8), laden with jewel-toned olive oil and smoky, velvety babaganoush.

Comfort. In friendship. And in food.

Middle Eastern food is homey. And the food served at Maroush feels delivered by family, food that feels like much of it is the same as what they’re enjoying at home, in their most comfortable place.

The warmth from the wood-burning oven permeates the space, which is clean and expansive and, despite the fast-casual model, seems as though it sits slightly above an umbrella term I’d use for chain-style operations. This, from the young girl who delivered much of the food (another hint that many of the folks working here might be related) to the absolute grandeur of the generous, four-skewer mixed grill platter ($34.99) with its hefty and flawlessly spiced chicken kufta and ground beef kebab laid alongside juicy hunks of fire-kissed chicken and ribeye.

Lavash and pita abound, but you’ll want to remember to use the one beneath this carnivorous collection before the rest, lest you fill yourself on bread that, while warm and wonderful, will never match the depth of that on which the meat itself is presented.

Similarly, the shawarma platter is an aromatic delight — rice and breads, meats and pickled sides — the tender beef miraculously surpassed by chicken so surprisingly flavorful and juicy, I’m already feeling the need to return to try their grilled whole bird (but fearing it might ruin me for easier-to-grab rotisserie options once I do).

Platter notwithstanding, I’d go shawarma wrap every time from here on out. Something about that expertly swaddled sando, rich with meat and flavorful sauces (Tahini? Garlic? Say yes.) that hit harder than perhaps any I’ve had before.

Highlights from a previous takeout tour showcased service even before I arrived for pickup, as a staffer let me know the layali lubnan I’d ordered was unfortunately 86’d, suggesting baklava instead.

“Do you make it?” I queried.

“Fresh every day!” he said.

Sold.

As for the rest of the haul, which included that aforementioned wrap, highlights included the sfeeha manakeesh, a petite and pizza-esque treat layered in minced meat seasoned with tomatoes, peppers, onions (it reheated wonderfully) and kibbeh so warm, so earthy, it seemed a precursor to the comfort I felt on my next visit while dining in.

Maroush is nearly brand-new to the dining scene at Waterford Lakes, taking its place in the space formerly known as Slapfish and an addition here that’s as welcome to the area’s colorful foodie fray as it is welcoming to those who find themselves unexpectedly forlorn while on the way.

amthompson@orlandosentinel.com