The name means spicy fish and undersells it. A tahini and coriander sauce sharpened with chilli and lemon does most of the work, and the fish only has to be fresh.
Vermicelli sweetened with cardamom, saffron and rose water, served under a plain omelette. It should not work on paper, and it has been the standard morning plate in the UAE for generations.
A yeasted batter fried into shatter-crisp spheres, then drenched while still hot. The trick nobody mentions is the temperature of the syrup, and it decides everything.
Green wheat harvested early and burned in the field, cooked with the patience Italians give arborio. Smoky, chewy and considerably harder to overcook than rice.
Layered chicken, fried aubergine and spiced rice cooked in one pot, then turned out whole onto a platter. The name means upside down, and the flip is the entire performance.
Hollowing a courgette without splitting it is a skill worth twenty minutes of practice. What goes inside is rice, lamb and enough spice to season both at once.
Roast chicken over onions cooked in an amount of olive oil that feels wrong until you taste it, with sumac doing the work salt cannot. A dish built around the olive harvest.
Tunisia's national condiment and Korea's fermented chilli paste share more than heat. Together they build a lacquered crust that neither manages alone.
A spiced lamb and vegetable saloona ladled over thin regag bread until it collapses. Ramadan tables across the UAE run on this, and the bread is the point.
Two sesame pastes from opposite ends of Asia turn out to want the same thing. A Japanese temple-festival glaze, loosened with tahini and finished with pomegranate.
