Daavat is an immigrant restaurant. Â The clientele is mostly Somalian, with some from around the rest of the Islamic world - mostly taxi drivers as you might have guessed, and all men. Â They have calls to prayer over the loudspeaker, although muting the TV (which played Steve Irwin and his imitators capturing things in the wilds of Africa the entire time I was there) is as far as most of the customers go toward observance.
The guy manning the counter claims to not speak much English, although when prompted by another customer he seemed to get by just fine. Â For $8, including tax, I got a large plate of rice, spiced chicken, some vegetable soup ladled over the rice to moisten it up, and Kool-aid. Â I chose that on the recommendation of the customer who managed to loosen the tongue of the counter man.
The customers were friendly, the service was about what you'd expect from a lunch counter created for and manned by recent immigrants, and the food was hearty, well-spiced, and filling. Â It's not a place to take your mother for Sunday brunch (unless your mother is Somalian), but if you like cross-cultural experiences, you could do much worse.