Q is for Qatar

Q is for Qatar

I’ll put it out there now and say I reckon this might be shortest entry there’s been for a while (please try and keep your rejoicing to a minimum – the neighbours are trying to sleep). Only a couple of weeks ago, for lack of any other option, my hands were tied and I had to cook Omani cuisine. Delicious as it was (damn, it really was good), I wasn’t overly thrilled at the prospect of once again being faced with a one-country letter, particularly given the fact that the two cuisines in question – Omani and Qatari – aren’t exactly what you would call ‘polar opposites’. Not only that, but there was just one measly week between the two (thank God for the Philippines), which meant eating two very similar meals in very quick succession. So, suffice it to say I was heading back over to the Persian Gulf with something less than buckets than enthusiasm. Maybe a bowl of it. Maybe even just a dainty little teacup. No offence, Qatar!

Off to a great start

As anyone who keeps half an eye on the news (eugh, flashbacks to cutting open sheep eyeballs at school – bleeeeuuuuggghhh) will know, this little nation makes up in headlines what it may lack in physical size. And boyyyyy has it been causing a fuss recently! I am about as far from an expert on the Middle East as it is possible to get, but even I know that this former British protectorate is definitely not the most popular kid in the class over there. I have to say though, considering the overwhelming attitude of bewilderment and, to some extent, disdain towards Britain that seems to be emanating from an unfortunate number of countries right now, I can empathise a smidge with Qatar. To clarify, I mean this like in the same way I could empathise with the other kid in my class at school who used to have to wear an eyepatch and headbrace (true story, folks): comrades in arms we were not, but there was a certain sense of “I get ya, kid”. (Please note: I am in no way taking a political stance on whatever the heck is going on over there. I’m just here for the chuckles).

Less of the childhood sob - or for you, perhaps, wildly entertaining – stories, and back to Qatar. Let me tell you, for a little splodge of a nation, the Qataris haven’t done badly for themselves at all, at least in terms of moola. It officially has the highest income per capita in the world – bet you didn’t know that, did you? And even though you’d not necessarily notice this little fella in a crowded room at some fancy soiree, Qatar packs a disproportionate punch on the world stage, being identified as a ‘middle power’ (a step away from a ‘great power’ and two shades off ‘superpower’). Having said that, if Qatar were to head to a fancy soiree, it’d probably be dripping in gold, silk and truffles, so it’d maybe be a little tricky to ignore. I just one to mention one final little fact on the country itself: earlier this year, the population of Qatar was 2.6 million. Not so special, eh? BUT 2.3 million of ‘em are expatriates. 2.3 MILLION. OF 2.6 MILLION! The mind boggles.

Bootiful veg

The question, of course, is what do all those expats, and the smattering of locals, eat there? Well, no prizes for guessing that rice is back on the menu. And chicken and lamb. And all manner of spices. And a bunch of veggies. Can you sense my enthusiasm?? Apparently, the national dish of Qatar is machbous – a good ol’ reliable mix of rice, meat and vegetables. Though there may be some contention considering its origins, machbous is said to come from Saudi Arabia. Its neighbours were then apparently like “yeh, cool, we’ll have some of that too” and the rest was history. So, what about something that is typically Qatari? I’ll tell you this for free, it’s not easy to track down. Many of the country’s most popular dishes, such as kabsa (rice, meat and vegetables mixed with spices – notice a pattern emerging?) and balaleet (noodles cooked with sugar, cinnamon, saffron and cardamom and topped with – gulp – an omelette) tend to be rather vague as to their origins, and are enjoyed by many countries in that corner of the globe. However, after MUCH trawling the backwaters of Google, I chanced upon an intriguing dish which, while once again of vague origin, presented a slightly more interesting experience than the standard rice-meat-veg combo. Plus, as a bonus, it has a downright glorious name: margoog.

Said curious dumplings

Ma gawd, margoog, what a funny little thing you are. On first glance, it’s nothing but a harmless lamb and vegetable stew, with the customary 10-page list of spices. HOWEVER, just where you think the list of ingredients should stop, there comes the heading ‘dumpling ingredients’. Errrrr what? What are dumplings doing in a lamb stew all the way over in Qatar? Did some oil baron come over to Britain and sneak a pot of some granny’s stew back in his carry-on? To me, that is the only explanation. Dumplings have been a fairly regular theme in many of the cuisines I’ve looked into so far, but not in any of the Persian Gulf countries. What’s more, these dumplings aren’t your typical globs of stodge that are lurking around in a hearty British stew. No no, margoog dumplings are flat. Literally just a flat disc of flour, oil and water that floats around on top of the stew, occasionally dipping below the surface if a chunk of aubergine decides to wash ashore on it. Very strange indeed.

Marvellous margoog

As I was shopping for this dish, I decided to forego the meat and try a veggie version. Well friends, let me tell you that this was a very good decision. Although I left out the lamb, I left the stew to simmer and bubble away for almost as long, meaning that the vegetables broke down into a delightful mass of semi-indistinguishable mush. I appreciate that that doesn’t sound especially appetising, but who wants an undercooked aubergine? No-one, that’s who. My new friends, the dried Persian limes, also snuck their way into my dinner, which I was definitely not sad about, and the whole bonanza was topped off by above-mentioned dumplings/mini frisbees. I gotta say, after all that moaning at the start about the lack of choice this week, margoog turned out to be an absolute smash. I distinctly remember clicking my fingers in a ‘gosh darnit, that’s mighty delicious’ kind of way, surprised as I was about the whole shebang. So Qatar, you may be somewhat controversial in other areas of life, but you sure make a good margoog!