Don’t be surprised if, after a taste of the silky baba ghanoush served at this downtown den of Lebanese cuisine, you start whispering sweet nothings to it. “My darling, where have you been all my life?” You might find yourself cooing as you stare longingly at the last schmear of gustatory gold left on the plate. There’s a good reason the owners of this humble little joint (formerly long island Pizzaria) call it Habibi, an Arabic term of endearment that translates to “my beloved.” Certainly the enduring intimacy attracts twinkling couples and talkative groups searching for a place to break pita together over honest conversation. But it’s Habibi’s delicately prepared offerings, from the generously portioned meat meze platter—a spectacular array of hummus, falafel, and chicken shawarma—to a simple zattar pizza or a plate of velvety beef-stuffed grape leaves, that inspire the most rewarding of culinary love affairs.