Aw Shucks!

I have recently found out that my blog was selected as one of Qatar’s Top Blogs by a popular local web site called I Love Qatar. The owner of this site, known as Mr. Q (aka Kei & Amnesia), left me a wonderful comment a few months ago. I had no idea it would lead to this.

When I had started this blog it was mainly a way to keep my family updated of our daily life, however mundane it might be. I had also intended it to be mainly a food blog (not enough of these you know!) focusing mainly on local cuisine, hence all the food related posts. But, lots of interesting things happened in between, so I decided I could not limit myself to a particular subject.

So Mr. Q if you are reading this, I am, to say the least, honored and humbled. And I will definitely try (fingers crossed) to post more often!

24 Cupcakes

It was my eldest son’s birthday a few days ago. He turned 15, and at 5’9” is now taller then his dad. Yes, there are a few well earned silver strands mingling with my otherwise raven locks, but I have not broken out the Clairol yet. I know it is just a matter of time that I will - or won’t.

We had given H a choice of having a party or getting something he couldn't live without, and I am delighted to say that my gregarious and ever sociable son chose his friends. His invitation list initially consisted of 25 of his closest friends, but we whittled it down to 15.

We had reserved 3 lanes at the Markaz Qatar Al Bolinj / Qatar Bowling Center. The bowling alley here is about the same as back home, except it is immaculately clean, with a VIP sitting room and waiters in black and white uniforms who deliver snacks in hefty proportions while you bowl. Security is plenty and is strictly enforced. The rules are similar as well, with the exception of this one, by far my favorite:

No bowling is allowed while wearing an abaya or thobe.

We had requested everyone not to bring gifts. We wanted it to be a simple and casual affair, for the boys to get together and have a good time. We also did not want H to receive expensive gifts, such as IPhones & IPods (which is not unheard of by the way). But Arabs are extremely generous, with the Qatari’s being high on the list. So a few did come bearing gifts. I am left pondering how we will reciprocate.

We had a great time. I met all of H’s friends who were there, and they are a great group of kids, albeit a bit shy in front of mom. The gathering truly represented a mini United Nations. N and I had slaved all afternoon making cupcakes - with a little help from Ms. Betty Crocker. We made over 30, and had taken 24 with us, which disappeared within minutes. Afterwards K and I allowed him to go to Johnny Rocket’s with his buddies for his favorite meal of burgers, fries and shakes. Qatar is a much safer place to live and we give our children a greater amount of freedom that we otherwise would have. In case you're wondering, that's when the real party began!

I have previously mentioned in a former post our main purpose for moving to Qatar. But another greatly important reason was that we wanted our children to grow up with a greater sense of awareness and respect for other people and cultures.

I have lived in the US for the majority of my life, but have been fortunate to have lived in other parts of the world as well. I have also been blessed with many opportunities to travel. I can honestly say we Americans, no matter how the bad economy gets, compared to the rest of the world, still have got it good. But we often tend to be myopic, barely noticing what goes on beyond our back yards.

We don’t need to drive gas guzzling SUV’s, and we don’t need to fill our homes with inexpensive items manufactured in foreign countries under dire conditions. We are a nation of immigrants, therfore we must educate ourselves to a greater degree in order to prevent the evils stemming from xenophobia. And having such a profound influence on the rest of the world, we need to choose our leaders wisely. I am proud to say, this year we did.

But having said all this I must also point out that we citizens are by far the most generous of all developed nations, giving twice as much to charitable causes; benefiting not only our own communities, but wherever the need is greatest.

Therefore, I did not want my children to grow up to be the epitome of the old and often unjust cliché the ‘ugly American’. Here they are experiencing another way of life, different from what they are accustomed to, but wonderful nonetheless. They are interacting with people of various demographics, from distinct cultures, societies and economic levels. Through our frequent travels they have been able to observe other parts of the world at a closer range. And they are developing a keen sense of awareness, along with a greater appreciation and respect for others. They also know how good they have it.

And so ya ibni, my sweet boy, may you carry this knowledge with you throughout your life, when you return home, or wherever you choose to live. And may you convey this more so through your actions than with words.

Gimme a Break

Gimme a break, break me off a piece of that ... uh … King Tat Bar?

This post is not about advertising jingles or odd candy finds - although there are plenty here - it is about change. And since this is not a political blog (although I have pretty strong opinions on many issues), it certainly is not about the change Obama/McCain are proselytizing either. It is about the good old chaching kind.

Coins - called dirham’s - are often not used much in our daily transactions. When purchasing an item, paper currency is used almost exclusively. Prices are rounded off to the nearest quarter. I don't know if dirham's come in any denominations besides .25 and .50 since I have never seen any. I have also never seen an item for QR 2.99, or QR 299.99 for that matter.

To give you an example of how this works, if your bill in any given store comes to 12.25 riyals and you hand 15.00 riyals to the cashier, most often you will receive 3 riyals back. If your total comes to 12.75 riyals most likely you will receive 2 riyals back. When your total comes to 12.50 you may be handed 2 riyals, and in lieu of .50 dirham’s, a mini King Tat bar or some other interesting and/or odd flavored chocolate, hard candy (mango-mint, tamarind) or gum (coffee, banana, cardamom). No one seems to mind this exchange.

Often these chocolates are loosely disguised reproductions of Western confections (of which we also get in great assortment). But none of my kids will eat them, so I keep them stashed away until they expire. Only then will my conscience allow me to throw them away.

Enough babbling for now, its time for some real change. Y’all go vote now ya hear!

Indulging My Sweet Tooth

Since the preceding Eid is considered the ‘Sweet Eid’ (as opposed to the ‘Savory Eid’ – more on that later), I thought it would be appropriate to post something along these lines.

I once used to say I haven’t met a cheesecake I did not like, but since moving to Qatar my mantra has long been silenced. Cheesecakes here are often eggy and intensely sweet, or are the gelatin based no-bake variety - a sacrilege in my opinion. With the exception of the occasional Sara Lee from Mega Mart, I had mostly given up on them.

Anyways, back to my original rambling. Nowadays when my sweet tooth beckons I occasionally indulge it with one of my most cherished and non-form flattering discoveries. Every now and then I will purchase mithai, a sweet or a type of dessert originating from Southeast Asia.

Sweet/mithai shops abound here; not only due to a large expat community, but Qatari’s also adore anything and everything sweet. For me however, just any mithai won’t do, since I find most varieties cloying and overwhelmingly sweet.

No no, I definitely do not covet the golden brown orbs dripping in rose and cardamom infused syrup called gulab jamun. Nor do I yearn for the milky sweet fudge redolent with coconut, pistachios, almonds or cashews - named barfi. And I certainly do not dream of the delicate pretzel like vermilion squiggles; crispy, crunchy on the outside, soft and filled with syrup in the insides, known as jalebi. I can go on since I have a PhD in desserts. And just because I don’t delight in these particular sweets does not mean I can’t wax poetics.

So occasionally when I do get a longing for something sweet, only a trip to a Bengali mithai shop will do. The main reason for this is – you guessed it – these desserts are not cloying and overwhelmingly sweet. They are mostly milk based and are exceptionally delicate with a very short shelf life.

The shop which I frequent is called Madhuban, and is considered the best in Doha. Getting there is part of the adventure, much to K’s chagrin. He is never happy to venture into busy, crowded places. But he is married to someone who does - and in order to keep the harmony at home, he reluctantly obliges. We never go on a Friday, since this is a day off for most people, and the entire area is thronging with single men (about 50% of the expat community here comprises of single men).

It is located in a part of town quite far from where we live, in an area predominantly populated by expats from the Indian subcontinent. You will feel as if you have been transported to India/Pakistan/Bangladesh/Sri Lanka/Nepal, all rolled in one. Finding parking is a nightmare, like anywhere else in Doha I suppose.

The neighborhood comprises of just a few street blocks, but it is packed with stores selling everything from loose material along with tailor shops, saris and other ready made clothes – both traditional and western, jewelry and watch stores, electrical items, hardware & software (often pirated), cell phones and their paraphernalia, music and video’s (also pirated), a variety of household goods, religious items - both Islamic and non, books in many languages, exotic and often confusing vegetables & fruits along with many other food items. I am sure I am leaving quite a few things out.

But most importantly, for me are the small hole in the wall restaurants that abound everywhere. They serve food from all the countries I mentioned above. The aromas wafting from these eateries can be detected from afar. So on any occasion we might get, a heavenly beryani, paratha’s, samosa’s & pakora’s etc. from the Pakistani restaurant, or savory dosa’s and delectable sweet-sour-spicy chaat's from the Indian ones. I have not tried any Nepali or Sri Lankan restaurants yet – but one of these days I will. I don’t enter these establishments, since 100% of the clients are male. So we usually get these items to-go and eat them in the comfort of our home, or weather permitting, in a nearby family park.

But the sweet shop is an exception I make. This is the only establishment I do enter, since I want to see all the different and colorful varieties of sweets, from which I pick and choose. Often I make the clientele a bit nervous, since women usually don’t enter these establishments. But, wrapped in an abaya, I always garner respect. I quickly pick my items and go out while K pay’s for them.

Two of my favorites sweets are a milky, melt in your mouth, fudge like squares called sundesh ('good news' in Bengali – very aptly named I think), and mishti dhoi – a caramel flavored sweet yogurt. These satiate my craving for at least a few months.

Things are looking up in the cheesecake department. I have recently found a marvelous cheesecake at a bakery called Opera. But I will continue to frequent my newfound epicurean destination, since, for me at least, new habits as delectable as these, die hard as well.


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Mishti Dhoi

1 quart milk
1 ½ cups sugar
2-3 tablespoons water
½ cup plain yogurt

Boil the milk gently until it is reduced by half. Add 1 cup sugar.
Caramelize the remaining ½ cup sugar until brown and caramelized; be careful not to scorch it. Carefully add the water and add this to the milk sugar mixture.
Allow to cool until warm then add yogurt.
Place in a container and cover with lid. Place in a warm, dark place until set about 8 hours. Or you can use a yogurt maker. Traditionally it is made in terra cotta pots, which imparts its earthen flavor into the yogurt.

Serve chilled & enjoy!

Moose Anyone?

I saw these in the bakery section at our local grocery store today and the carnivore in me was tempted to give one a try. Honestly have to tell you it did not taste gamey at all. Nor did it taste like chicken for that matter. It had a rich creamy texture with a delightful fruity bouquet.

Eid Saeed!

Kul aam wa antum bakhair (may you be blessed every year). A belated Eid Mubarak to all. The kids had 12 days off from school and K had 9, so for the past week or so we were busy among ourselves. The well deserved break went by peacefully and all too quickly.

We had initially planned on driving to Dubai then on to Oman (which is app. a 12 hours drive), but nixed the idea in its infancy due to the fact we have recently returned from a 2 month trip to the US. But it is definitely on our itinerary for next year.

We opted to stay home and visit with the few friends who chose to remain here as well. Eid is a time when many expats and locals alike decide to take a brief R&R, so Doha was relatively quiet for a while, which we greatly enjoyed. For a brief amount of time it appeared as if we had the city, most notably the roads, to ourselves. I know anyone who drives in Doha has sympathy with my sentiments.

Now life is also back on its predictable groove. K has is back on his usual long work schedule, which he loves, and which is the reason we are here of course. H & N are enjoying school, albeit with a heavier and longer schedule. H has joined volleyball, so I have become a volleyball mom. Next trimester I will be a basketball mom. God only knows what the third trimester will bring. The Greek Gods, particularly Zeus, smile upon me.

Even A has returned to his mini schedule and is back in preschool. I had decided to keep him home during Ramadan. This is the last year he will be home before his real education starts and we won’t have such flexibility. Kindergarten is a serious commitment; just ask any 5 year old!

Every one was elated to see him on the first day of school. There was plenty of Ahlan habibi (welcome sweetheart)!, Kaifa haluk ya A (how are you A), along with an abundance of hugs and kisses. A smugly soaked it all in. He was missed, and it’s nice to be missed.

Thank you’s are in order to my readers – translation: family & 4 others on a good day – for your patience during my sporadic comings and goings. A special thanks to Chis, who wrote a lovely comment welcoming me back. It is nice to be missed indeed!

Ramadan Kareem - Part 2

I haven’t been posting lately due to Ramadan. Ramadan is a very busy time of the year for us. With the exception of A, we are all fasting. H has been fasting the entire month for the past few years. N fasts on and off, though I often have to force her to take a break every few days when she begins to look a bit peaked.

Ramadan is primarily a time to reflect inwards and strive to better ourselves, and also to strengthen our bond with Allah (God in Arabic). So we spend much time in prayer.

We do like to have different foods with which to break our fast. So on any day you will find a multitude of wonderful things on my dining table at Iftaar (which literally means breakfast in Arabic).

There may be fried chicken and mashed potatoes (for H), beryani (for K), pasta with marinara sauce or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (for N). There will always be a light soup such as chicken noodle or vegetable, a variety of fruits, croissants, pour moi bien sur, along with the ubiquitous black beans and samosa’s. There will also be many cold and refreshing drinks (well it is 110 degrees outside you know).

So as you can see, it’s an international smorgasbord – quite fitting for us. We often share our blessings with friends, family, neighbors and people who congregate at the local Masjid at the time of Iftaar. This keeps me quite busy, to say the least.


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The following is a recipe for watermelon juice. I often make this for Iftaar since it is very refreshing. Plus, I often have a lot of watermelon left over. Watermelons here come in one size – extremely large – so we usually can’t eat all of it.

Watermelon Juice

8 cups coarsely chopped watermelon pieces (seeds are fine)
1 tablespoon sugar
Juice of 1 lime
1 cup water

Combine all ingredients in blender (you may have to gradually add the watermelon since it won’t all fit at one time) and blend until nearly smooth - the seeds being the exception. Strain the juice through a fine sieve. Serve with plenty of crushed ice. You can change the amount of sugar and lime to your taste.

We're Baack

Ramadan Kareem!

After an exhausting 22 hour journey we are now home. All 18 of us arrived safely – 8 suitcases, 4 items of hand luggage, a Wii Fit, a Wave board, 3 kids and myself. As you can tell, we did our best to help stimulate the lagging US economy.

My eldest 2 are going through withdrawal symptoms and bouts of homesickness. But school started 2 days after our arrival so there was not much time to mope. They are beginning to adjust to their usual schedules and are glad to see their friends. My youngest, the Qatari at heart, is blissfully happy to be home.

Jetlag persists and no one is having trouble getting up for Suhur. I will try to post periodically during the next few weeks, staying close to Ramadan related topics.

Much Ado About Mangoes

Mango frenzy has started here with great exuberance. Much to our delight, grocery stores and markets are now brimming with the heady, intoxicating and sinfully sweet fruits. They are, justifiably so, considered the king of fruit and are a class of their own. Some may tell you their flavor and texture resembles a ripe peach or a papaya; don’t believe them.

Though many countries are now mango (maanjo in Arabic) producers and exporters, the best varieties come from the Indian subcontinent, namely from India and Pakistan. The skins are thin and their flesh smooth and fibreless. Once you taste them, I assure you, you will not go back.

Until last year the Central American varieties were the only ones available in the United States. Since beggars can’t be choosers, we had also once gleefully purchased and consumed them without much complaint.

Now however, the US has begun to import mangoes from India as well. Apparently our current (and thankfully soon to be former) President enjoyed them immensely on his 2006 trip to India, and thus recommended their import. They don’t come cheap however, $30-$40 for a 3 kilo or about 7 pound box.

Here in Qatar we are spoiled. We can buy mangoes from all over the world year round - Indonesia, Sudan and Australia come to mind. But we usually wait for the summer to purchase the varieties from India and Pakistan. We start to see them arrive in May, and they continue to linger until August. The peak season is in July, when the quality is best, along with abundant varieties and the lowest prices.

My favorite mango is from Pakistan called the Sindhri. Its origin is from the Sindh province in the southern part of the country. They are a large variety, about 1 pound apiece. When fully ripe their skin turns a brilliant cadmium yellow. They are extremely aromatic and fragrant with a thin translucent skin and a firm, smooth, fibreless flesh. Just 1 can easily suffice as lunch.

Thought these sweet-smelling fruits are now available in copious supply in every grocery, market and corner store, I have my own source from where I purchase them.

I have a tailor (another perk to living in Doha) to whom I occasionally frequent, who is from Pakistan. A few weeks ago I spotted a few empty mango boxes in the corner of his store. It’s my side business he told me, I will be receiving a new shipment any day now. So a few days later K (who usually detests trips to the tailors) and I went to get a box.


They were fresh picked, straight from the orchards in Pakistan. A 10 kilo/22 pound box cost 65 riyals. Elsewhere Sindhri's are selling for 10 riyals a kilo. But we were not there for the price; the quality is far superior from the store bought ones.

There are many recipes for mango-based foods and drinks. Mango ice cream, fresh juice and shakes are very popular here, along with the yogurt based drink called mango lassi. I personally prefer to eat then just as they are.

The best way to eat them is to first roll up your sleeves, or better yet put on an apron, and hold the peeled fruit in your hands. Stand in front of the kitchen sink and proceed to devour the fruit down to the pit, allowing the luscious ambrosial juices to dribble down your chin, hands, wrists and even elbows. Licking is optional, but highly recommended.

We will miss the peak season due to our trip back home, but for now I am content that my kitchen is filled with their sweet and captivating perfume.

Mango Lassi

Recipe courtesy of the Food Network

Ingredients
9 fluid ounces (255 milliliters) plain yogurt
4 1/2 fluid ounces (130 milliliters) milk
4 1/2 fluid ounces (130 milliliters) canned mango pulp or 7 ounces (200 grams) from 3 fresh mangoes, stoned and sliced
4 teaspoons sugar, or to taste

Instructions
Put all the ingredients into a blender and blend for 2 minutes, then pour into individual glasses, and serve. The lassi can be kept refrigerated for up to 24 hours.

Arabic 101

Something that I had been looking forward to for quite some time has finally come to fruition. A few weeks ago I received a call from the Qatar Guest Center, a non profit organization for the propagation of Islam, the Arabic language and culture. Both Muslims and non Muslims are welcome to join or take the many classes that are offered.

I had called a few months ago inquiring about language classes, and at the time they were not offering them for women. Now that A is in pre-school, I can afford to spend a few hours for self melioration.

Classes in Arabic will start in a few days, I was told. If interested I should come by on such and such date and take a test to see what my level is.

Like the vast majority of Muslims of non-Arab origin (only 15-18 % of Muslims are of Arab origin, out of an estimated 1.84 billion Muslims worldwide) I had learned to read and write Arabic as a child, but never learned to speak. So it has since been a dream of mine to learn spoken Arabic, mainly in hopes of understanding the Quran when I read it. The Quran however is written in a more complex form of Arabic but speakers of the language do procure the essence of it.

The evening before the test K and I went to look for the center. The wonderful folks at a web forum called Qatar Living gave me directions on how to get there. We found it without much difficulty, only to be told that this is the men’s section, the women’s section has recently moved to a new location.

Now before I proceed I must tell you that finding addresses here or giving someone directions is an art form of its own. Forget Mapquest. Often the streets are unnamed, but even if they are no one bothers to know or refer to them.

Turn left at such and such roundabout, after going 2 kilometers you will find a Masjid (grocery store, laundry, palm tree, whatever), make a right turn. You will then see some construction on the left hand side (directions here almost always involve construction), turn left. After this much distance the blank (fill this with destination) will be on your right hand side. And so on and so forth. Having said this however, today’s landmarks may be gone tomorrow, victims of ongoing construction. It is just short of a miracle if you get there without getting lost the first time.

The gentleman at the men’s center told K that the women’s building is near the Immigration Center. Where near the Immigration Center? He tossed his hand in the air meaning of course, ‘near the Immigration Center'. You can not miss it; it is a villa with a white board. Ok, we knew where the Immigration Center was, it is not far from where we live so we headed that way. After wasting ½ an hour mindlessly meandering through every street and alley, we gave up and came back home.

The next morning I called in the hopes of getting better directions. A man picked up. I asked him where the women’s center was. Ok, make right at Immigration Center and left. It is there. Make right where, before or after? You know Dasman center (a department store)? It is next to it. We saw Dasman center in our fruitless expedition the night before, it was not there. Where near Dasman center I dared to ask. By this time the voice on the other side was becoming agitated. No no, not next to it across form it. Umm… can you please give me the number for the women’s center?

A woman (surprise) picked up, who did not know much English. She passed the phone to someone else who then passed the phone to yet another person. Yes we are near a small Masjid near a housing compound. I am of course recapitulating the condensed version of the conversation.

Equipped with this much information, I headed out on my quest. After 15 minutes of blindly driving around, I saw the compound. So, the mosque must be nearby, I thought. It was, one block over on the next street surrounded by construction. Once again I proceeded to drive through every single street and alley. Eureka!

But having said all this, I also want to add that most people who work at the Qatar Guest Center are volunteering their precious time for the betterment of people like myself.

Classes began a week ago, w'ana sa'id jiddan.