Where there's hooka smoke...

By KARALEE MILLER
STAR-TELEGRAM STAFF WRITER

It's a deeply rooted tradition from the Middle East and Africa that is now thriving in the United States, as high schoolers and beyond relish the pleasures of the tobacco-filled water pipe with its sweet taste and intoxicating feel. The hooka habit has its roots in India, Turkey and Egypt, where older men would bide their time in local cafes, smoking the wet tobacco between games of dominoes or backgammon.

Here in the United States, the hooka is quickly becoming this generation's cigar -- an attractive, legal alternative to cigarettes at a time when smoking in public has come, well, under fire.

And before we go any further into the hooka hoopla of today, let's address two quick hooka misconceptions: Yes, the hooka, which combines tobacco with molasses and enticing fruit flavors and filters it through a water pipe, carries the same health risks of smoking. And no, while the hooka can and has been used for substances stronger than tobacco, like opium and hashish, that's not the customary use of the pipe. It's more about communal downtime. Hanging out with friends. Relaxing. Talking.

And that's what is in the collective minds of the Saturday-night owls who have entered into the hooka spot of choice in Fort Worth -- Byblos Lebanese Restaurant and hooka Lounge on North Main Street. While Byblos' restaurant has been around for more than a dozen years, the lounge opened a year ago, just one of the estimated 200 to 300 hooka bars that have sprouted across the nation in the last five years, according to Smokeshop magazine.

"Being here is like being back home in Israel," says Ben Knust, who lived overseas for four years. Upon the arrival of his mint-melon hooka, the recent North Crowley High School grad reaches for the long, flexible hose, curls it to his mouth and inhales. His order gurgles at the bottom. Everything's working.

"It has a mellow feeling," says Knust as he exhales, falling back onto a gaggle of plush pillows in the back area of the lounge known as "Amir's Room." The sweet taste of mint-melon rests in his lungs. He passes the hose to his friend, Jason Jimmerson, who promptly repeats the process.

hookas, also called nargile or shisha, are designed with a clay, foil-covered bowl holding a bed of flavored tobacco, heated by burning charcoal at the top. The base is a water-filled bowl, sometimes filled with ice upon request. The hose is a bendable pipe from which the user inhales, taking in the smoke after it has bubbled through the water.

hooka hounds have their choice of dozens of sweetened-tobacco flavors, everything from apple and orange to cappuccino and honey berry. Pipes will run you $10 to $20 in most local bars, depending on the number of flavors added.

"Any flavor that God made, we have a hooka for," says Mike Anani, owner of the almost 1-year-old Jasmine hooka Bar in Richardson.

hooka aficionados testify that smoking from the water pipe feels less strong than puffing on a cigarette and leaves a light, mild, satisfying taste.

"It relaxes you three times more than these," Anani says, picking up a pack of Marlboro Lights. "It relieves a lot of tension. ... When people smoke [cigarettes], they're worried and stressed. When they smoke hookas, they have time to calm and think."

Mellow moments come easy in Byblos, where deep, red, misty lighting gives the room a sexy glow and intimate vibe. Flowing sheets hang from the 30-foot ceiling. Cushioned couches are built into the walls, hugging almost every inch of the long, narrow space. A 14-foot-by-7-foot custom painting depicting an Arabian Nights-like scene hangs on one of the brick walls. Rich green curtains, pulled back by gold fringed tie-backs, cloak this haven from the outside world.

"It's not very Fort Worth," says Diane Caneva of Plano, enjoying a night out with her husband and friends. "It's not really what you expect a block away from the Stockyards."

hooka unhappy

Not everyone agrees that hooka smoking is a happy, harmless indulgence.

"There's no such thing as a safe tobacco product," says Samira Asma, associate director for global tobacco programs at the National Centers for Disease Control. "Tobacco by nature is genotoxic -- a deadly product. Ingested or inhaled in the human body, it is harmful."

hooka smoking can cause mouth cancer, as well as lung disease and stomach and esophagus cancer, Asma says, adding that women face even more "alarming" dangers.

Studies from the Middle East and India show young women who smoked water pipes during their pregnancies are at risk for low-birthweight babies and increased carbon dioxide blood levels, Asma says. Their babies are also more susceptible to asthma and bronchitis.

A 2002 CDC focus group study -- which included 18- to 22-year-olds in Dallas -- found that young people are naive about the dangers of smoking water pipes.

"They saw them as harmless," Asma says. "The don't recognize the harmful effects and dangers involved."

The potential harm can be both short- and long-term, says Dr. Adi Gazdar, a professor of pathology and deputy director of the Hamon Center for Therapeutic Oncology Research at the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center.

"If you're smoking [cigarettes] and trying to quit, smoking a hooka may make it more difficult," he says, "or could lead you on to more, stronger products."

Bottom line -- smoking a hooka doesn't water down the hazardous effects of tobacco.

But hooka bars do manage to create places where people can get something to eat, sit and talk and have a smoke -- a feat that has been increasingly difficult in North Texas in recent years as restaurant smoking has been banned (in Dallas) or heavily restricted (in Tarrant County). A hooka bar is a bar, after all, where smoking is legal. It's just a very different kind of bar.

A meeting of cultures

In the heart of Deep Ellum sits an unassuming corner establishment. No raucous noise filters to the street. No drunken men wander inside, groping and reaching for single women. It's calm. Soothing. Unaffected.

Welcome to the Velvet hooka.

Since opening in September 2002, the tranquil yet funky bar has become a home to several regulars and a meeting place for virgin smokers.

"It's a cool, laid-back atmosphere," says Daniel Ashby, 24, of Arlington, sporting bluejeans, a blue Billabong T-shirt and white Adidas. "I can always go to any bar and drink. This is something different."

For Jessica White and Derek Burns, this hooka bar is the perfect setting for their first date. Graceful sheets cascade from the ceiling. Towering chandeliers made of dangling pieces of round coral are illuminated by rich red lights. The soulful sounds of the hip-hop band Common Folk drift throughout the bar, as they do most Thursday nights.

Relaxed upon pillows on the floor, the couple passes the hose of a triple-apple hooka back and forth, occasionally glancing at the expansive handpainted mural on the wall behind them.

"I had no idea what to expect," says Burns, 30, a chemical engineer from Mesquite. "This is great."

So, would they recommend this nightspot to other first-daters?

"Oh, yeah," says White, 32, an account coordinator from Dallas who visits hooka bars about once a month. "It's an intimate setting. ... The people you meet are really friendly. You get a lot of different cultures."

Indeed, agrees Anani, owner of Jasmine in Richardson.

"Ninety percent of my customers are 19 to 35," he says. "It's a melting pot -- white, Asian, Uranian, Indian -- everybody's different."

Just a few feet away from the inaugural daters sits Dan Hays and Kim Ozment. The couple pass a hooka hose back and forth, taking turns inhaling the flavorful taste of coconut.

Hays, who has his own hooka, says he chills about twice a week, smoking at home, usually his favorite flavor -- strawberry.

"It's like how people go home from work and have a beer," the 23-year-old explains. "I'll smoke a hooka."

Nearby, two male friends kick back on a couch along the wall, splitting a double-apple hooka. A.J. Paracha, 22, of Mansfield, is dressed casually in an Armani Exchange T-shirt, his head closely shaven. His friend, Zishan Ali, 24, of Dallas, fiddles with his dark, spiked hair, chatting on a cellphone.

It's Paracha's his first visit to the Velvet hooka but not his first time dabbling with the water pipe.

"I'm from Pakistan. It's what we do," he says. "It's a great way to relax."

The rainbow of clientele that breezes in and out of the bar is a dream fulfilled for owner Ehab Elsaadi, who also owns the Velvet hooka in Addison.

"I wanted to have a place that's not exclusive to any one group," he says. "All people, all music, all cultures."

A fad -- or here to stay?

The hooka bar has found a niche in American culture -- one that continues to gain momentum.

Just look at Anani, owner of Jasmine in Richardson. When his bar first opened less than a year ago, Anani ordered $200 worth of flavored tobacco. On a recent afternoon, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a receipt for his latest tobacco order -- $21,400.

Ironically, a hooka bar was never in the initial plans for Anani's business, which started as a cafe and market.

"Just look at the sign outside," he says, pointing toward the front door. "It says 'Jasmine Market & Cafe.' There's no mention of hooka."

And there's no sight of alcohol either at this bar, considered by many as the most traditional in the area.

"Back home doesn't do that," he says of his native Palestine. "I didn't see doing something here other than what the traditional cafes overseas do. That was important to me."

hooka enthusiasts are proving this may be less fleeting than a fad, as positive word of mouth about this centuries-old tradition seeps into even the most conservative corners of our culture.

Velvet hooka owner Elsaadi, for his part, is banking on the water pipe enjoying a long-burning future.