A Middle Eastern food medley in Old Dubai

‘As you walk the streets if you ever get asked about the origin of falafel, without batting an eyelid say “your country”’ jokes Arva Ahmed. People here could get quite personal about it and a sea of heated arguments could ensue. The entire group breaks into chuckles at Qwaider Al Nabulsi, our very first stop on the Middle Eastern food pilgrimage tour with Frying Pan Adventures.

A couple of us, some explorers from around the globe and some locals, have our first true encounter with the incredible soft, flavourful falafels. I had almost written off falafels as overrated until Arva introduced me to them. An extension of the humble falafel is the Falafel mahshi stuffed with chilli paste called shatta, sumac spice and onions.

We made ourselves comfortable at the wobbly tables outside to make our own flatbread sandwhiches – smash some falafel mahshi with your hand then take a spoonful of hummus with a coriander/parsley/capsicum/lemon sauce called tatbeela add some grilled aubergine and top it up with some toum, roll it up and bite into the goodness. Beware; suddenly Arva’s voice will fade into the background for a few moments.

As far back as UAE’s existence, the shawarma has been an omnipresent part of the culinary landscape. The humble shawarma has survived the cultural tsunami for years. Most shawarma places are around the corner. Now ordering a shawarma takeaway is a bit of an art. While approaching the place, you will hoot twice, long beeps, signalling them to take orders. The waiters race to the beeping cars where takeaway orders are dished out. Now, you don’t care much when you hold up traffic behind you as nothing can come in between you & your shawarma. The Middle Eastern variant places its importance on the meat, which I’m quite happy about. Eaten with pita bread, meat shavings are placed on top of the tahini with pickled cucumbers, turnips and chips.

Then comes a plate full of something that looked like a pizza only here it had a whole chicken piece unlike the scanty chicken pieces thrown in on our regular pizza. I had my eyes fixated trying to get my head around solving the puzzle about how it can be eaten. Arva comes to our rescue, breaks apart the chicken and already has our bread cut like pizza slices. The pizza lookalike is a Musakhan – a Palestinian sumac chicken with onions and olive oil, traditionally prepared during the oil pressing season to check the quality of the olive oil. The musakhan has spoiled me for life. Don’t think I could ever dig into a pizza with the same levels of satisfaction. After all the over indulgence, Arva confirms our fullness levels to 25 percent and we all give out a loud laugh.

No, a Kunafa can never be as fresh as heading to the kitchen to be made right before your eyes, made with kataifi noodle pastry at the base and akkawi cheese on top of a large flat pan. Once on the stove, constantly rotating the pan is critical to ensure it cooks evenly and perfectly, pouring jarfuls of sugar syrup and rose water subsequently, later to be topped with nuts generously. “In the Middle east, nuts are a sign of generosity and used abundantly to make guests feel welcomed’ explains Arva. One bit into the Kunafa, I’m transported to heaven with a well balanced savoury sweet combination. Old Dubai will always be fondly remembered for the Kunafa medley in my mouth.

Arva and her sister, Farida with whom she runs Frying Pan Adventures have grown up in this very neighbourhood much before the swanky, glitzy Downtown Dubai of today while some of the heritage food joints have been there much before both the girls were born. Arva fondly talks about most of them being etched in her childhood food memories and how she left her job as a consultant to come back and start what we today enjoy by exploring, tasting & savouring on the Rigga Streets. Our wanderings lead us to Al Samadi Sweets, piled high with different variety of Baklava. 

As the Arabic coffee flavoured with cardamom and saffron is poured into small cups and handed over, we guess the ingredients in the cream we are licking off the plate. After multiple hints, we get an answer which is random to be even considered, SOAP. Well, I learned that soapwart roots could be used in preparation of food as well.  The soapwart cream felt like a spreadable marshmallow, a delicate but unusual delight to savour.

With my tummy reaching alarming levels those jumping jacks were needed to come to my rescue before our next pit stop for the Egyptian feteer. As we cramp in the small open kitchen, the dough is stretched, swirled in the air and slapped on the marble platform (much like the typical Indian Roomali roti preparation). Cheese, vegetable and onion are sprinkled on the dough in copious amounts and then bundled and slid into the hot oven on either of the sides. Hot out of the oven, cut into small bites size cubes to be had with spicy shatta sauce, simple pleasures on a chilly winter evening.

A little part of me was glad that the rich, creamy Syrian pistachio boozah ice cream was slowing coating and cooling the inners my mouth to gently soothe the spicy shatta inflated tastebuds.

After the starter, main course, dessert, desert, starter, desert it was time to eat like a royal Emirati. At Al Tawasol, we got into a tent style eating place for our shared meal of Emirati Chicken Machboos (much like our Kolkatta biryani, light on the masala but flavourful) & Laham Salona (lamb curry with the traditional blend of Emirati spices) served over rice. All this paired with Laban (buttermilk without salt). After much tutoring from Arva, many still struggled to eat with their hands while I happily obliged and tucked in with my fingers.

All my excitement was bundled for the last stop - the Iranian Sweet & Spice Shop, after all Iran is where my roots are. Since we could not go to our last stop to indulge in Iranian fare, Arva introduced us to Makhloot Faloodeh here. Scrapping into the Saffron ice cream with vermicelli coated frozen sugar syrup and rose water warmed the cockles of my heart. It couldn’t end on a better note.

These ‘hole in a wall’ places are the true castles in sand instead of the modern skyscrapers and the fleet of malls in downtown Dubai, a few kilometre away. I bid my farewell, only longing to come back across the creek to indulge in the Iranian fare the next day.