Good Eats in Doha in the summer ...

In Canada, autumn and winter are all about comfort food, warm, hearty meals and inventive cuisine.  Spring and summer are when grills come out - steak and shrimp on the BarB, the occasional sausage or burger, spinach salad and lots of fresh summer produce.  Quick meals that allow us to spend maximum time enjoying the glorious warmer weather.

In Qatar, at least for us, the opposite seems to ring true.  With the arrival of hellish heat in May comes the desire to retire indoors, draw the blinds, and either cook up a storm or order in.  The occasional meal out is another way to beat the heat and avoid absolute hibernation.

The dusty 'tagine'.

The dusty 'tagine'.

With the a/c turned up full blast and the blinds drawn to keep the cool in, I get a sudden nesting urge, re-arranging pots and pans and rediscovering items like the tagine that has been sitting useless on top of the kitchen cabinets for eight months. 

Hellish weather on our doorstep ...

Hellish weather on our doorstep ...

This morning I'm overcome with a sudden urge to put that clay pot to good use, so decide to throw in some lamb chops, garlic, mint, root vegetables and stock.  Voila!  A hearty meal that will warrant popping open a lovely bottle of red for dinner!  I'm sitting outside at 8:00 a.m., in 36C weather, enjoying the early morning 'coolness' with a steaming cup of Joe before the extreme heat forces me back in around 10:00 a.m.  That's when temps are likely to rise above forty, but I'll consider myself lucky that humidity hasn't yet kicked.  If it had, I wouldn't be sitting out here typing about the stodgy meal slow cooking in my polar kitchen.

But I can still enjoy a steaming cup of coffe outdoors in the early morning hours ...

But I can still enjoy a steaming cup of coffe outdoors in the early morning hours ...

But what to do on those days when you just don't feel like cooking in Doha?  Well, let's just say that this is a city built with the laziest of cooks in mind.  Restaurants and takeaways abound, with shawarma stalls and Turkish takeouts on every street corner.  If you are craving something more Western and artery-clogging, head down to Cholesterol Corner for your choice of: McDonald's (even McD's delivers in Doha), Chilli's, Appleby's, Ponderosa (I know, I thought it had gone the way of the pioneer as well!), Burger King, Hardee's, Dairy Queen, and the list goes on endlessly.

Our preferred indulgence leans more toward Thai Snack, an amazing little oasis (albeit somewhat neglected in appearance) takeaway on Al Nasr street, just off Cholesterol Corner.  Delicious dumplings, cashew beef, papaya salad and Tom Yum soup.  You can eat in or take out, but they don't deliver.  Parking on the busy street can be a challenge, but still, it's worth the effort.

Kiddo likes pizza, and for an occasional indulgence we'll order from Fabio's.  Though they have an amazing array of sophisticated and creative pies (asparagus, seafood, boconccini, etc.) I have to admit that plain old pepperoni is a favorite in our household, even for our self-professed vegetarian child (she's not convinced pepperoni is actually meat ... I think she might be on to something). 

Turkey Central, also on Al Nasr street, is another yummy and affordable option, but the staff taking your order over the phone have a limited grasp of English, so what gets delivered to you might not be quite what you'd ordered.  Once in a while, you get lucky, and they actually send you something much tastier than your original selection. 

When we dine out, we usually like to go somewhere that will allow us to pair up our meal with a glass of wine or lager.  This limits us to hotel restaurants, of which there are few that serve up a fairly decent meal without totally breaking the bank.

On Thursday we went to the Belgian Bar at the Intercontinental Hotel.  Oysters on the shell, salmon and asparagus tartare, mussels in garlic and wine, grilled steak and a bottle of Chianti set us back about $200.  All in all, the meal was ok, the atmosphere chilled and laid back, though quite smoky by the time 10:00 p.m. rolled around.  

When going for mussels, I actually prefer Mykonos, a Greek restaurant also at the Intercon.  The lovely terrace is glorious in cooler months, but it loses some of its charm in the summer months when you have to retire to the indoor section.   But again, you should leave with enough in your wallet to at least pay the cab fared or the ride home.

For the ultimate in Asian fusion taste and dining experence, Hakkasan at the St. Regis Hotel is definitely our favorite, with the best crispy duck salad I've had in my life.  But you're guaranteed to come away with gaping holes in your pockets to make room for that full tummy.  If you follow your host's menu and pairing suggestion for two, don't be surprised if you leave the restaurant nearly 400$ (QAR 1,400) poorer than when you arrived.

We're not huge fans of Indian cuisine, but Chingari at Radisson Blu would convert even the greatest hater.  The relaxed seating, Indian house band, impeccable service and mouth-watering chappati and butter chicken make for a truly enjoyable dining experience.

These are just a few of our favorites (note, I'm not plugging these restaurants for any personal or financial benefit, only to share a few ideas with Doha readers).  I'd love to hear yours.

The veg that will go into the lamb tagine .... Not exactly considered summer fare in Canada!

The veg that will go into the lamb tagine .... Not exactly considered summer fare in Canada!

Happy hibernating/dining in Doha! 

 

Ask me if I make a difference ...

I think most everyone asks themselves at one point or another what their purpose is.  Why are we here?  What have we done today or any day to make the world a tiny bit better?

Most of us aren't policy-makers or multi-millionaires; we can't change the plight of a village in a day or feed all the hungry.  We aren't all prepared to become full-time social activists or to voice a protest that would jeopardize our family's livelihood and wellbeing. 

But I'm a firm believer in 'voice'.  We all have a voice, no matter how soft or how loud.  No matter if we use it sparingly or constantly.   And we can use that teeny tiny voice or that GIANT BOOMING VOICE to make a little difference every day.

I'm living in a country where worker welfare has been thrust (finally!) onto the forefront of the national agenda.  There are many official bodies working to turn an existing system upside down to better the plight of foreign laborers.  Most of the agenda items they are dealing with are beyond my remit and my control.  I fully support them, but I realize that my voice carries little weight at that level.

A laborer heading home after a hard day's work in Doha ...

A laborer heading home after a hard day's work in Doha ...

But some - SOME - differences I am able to make on a daily basis ALL ON MY OWN.  Simple things, little things, big things.  I can make a little difference every day.  Little differences that thousands of people just like me have used over the years to contribute and lend credence to the shift in perception that is now reverberating in this country.  I have a voice, shouldn't I be compelled to use it?

The other day, as I was dropping Kiddo off at school, I saw a dad give the crossing guards some juice boxes.  He made a little difference.  Because he was helping them stay hydrated, but mostly because he 'noticed' that they might be hot and thirsty.  And cared enough to do something about it.  We all like to know someone cares.

There are so many people toiling around us each day.  So many lives that we can touch by caring.  By caring enough to do something.  Or ask something.  Or show we care about something.  Even just a little something.

Every office, establishment and compound in Qatar comes with some degree of cleaning, pantry, maintenance and security staff.  These people do everything from clean toilets, offer to help carry paperwork, remember that someone likes mint but no sugar in their tea, and so much more.  

I've written out a list of questions below, for me, to figure out where I am using my voice to show these people I care and where I might try to use it more. 

Do I know the name of the young man who brought me my coffee with two scoops of sugar and a 'spot' of milk this morning?  Did I call him by his name and say 'thank you' when he brought it to me today?

Did I smile at the security guard who asked me for my I.D. before letting me into the parking facility at work and thank him for a job well done?  Did I ask him if the night shift had been long?

Have I ever brought the compound maintenance staff a nice chicken curry 'just because', or had my child bring compound security staff a note that says 'thanks for keeping us safe'? 

Do I hold the door open for the weighted down delivery man at the office?

Do I actually stop to have conversations with those people in my life who make a difference to me every day?  Do I actually care about THEIR day?

It may be that my greatest purpose in life ends up being 'caring'.  Caring leads to 'doing'.  There are many things I simply cannot do.  But there are little things I can.  Little things that show I care.

It's just a matter of recognizing them, and doing them.  And maybe, just maybe, one little thing will make a little difference in someone's life.  And make their life just 'a tiny bit' better.  And eventually, if we're all doing it, maybe collectively make a monumental difference.  Or maybe not.  Maybe a little difference in one person's life is all the purpose we need.

If we all commit to that little bit, eventually it might amount to a lot. 

I would love to hear how you've made a little or a big difference. In the world you live in.  Inspire me!

Message to Me from the Pit ... Life is Like a Bowl of Cherries

A few nights ago, like most school nights, Kiddo wistfully eyed my iPad and asked for the gazillionth time why SHE (unlike apparently every single other 8-year-old in the world) does not have the privilege of owning her own tablet.  Why SHE (unlike apparently every single other 8-year-old in the world) is not allowed to play on the computer at will, have her own e-mail address, or surf the web unsupervised.  Why SHE (unlike ... youknowwhereI'mgoingwiththis) has to wait for the weekend to enjoy an hour a day of highly scrutinized and chaperoned mind-numbing games.  Why her settings only allow her onto sites like IXL and BrainPopJr.

Just a sampling of the apps available to Kiddo on my phone ...

Just a sampling of the apps available to Kiddo on my phone ...

She didn't express it in quite those terms, but those very questions were reflecting back at me from her big blue pleading eyes as I answered "Because ..." and clambered wearily up the stairs.  

As I swapped my heels and business suit for a comfy pair of sweats, a thought popped into my head.  "Because life is the pits ..."  This led to memories of delightedly discovering Erma Bombeck's book "If Life is a Bowl of Cherries What am I Doing in the Pits?" when I was about ten.  This led to earlier memories of reading Erma Bombeck's advice column and cartoon strips (Hagar the Horrible, Beetle Bailey, Marmaduke, ...) every week as an expat child in Venezuela as my Dad would hand over the entertainment section of "The Daily Journal".  

THAT was my weekend indulgence, the HIGHLIGHT of my week - the colorful weekend funnies!  Waiting anxiously for my Dad to finish reading so I could catch up with the Peanuts' characters - what mission would the Red Baron set off on this weekend? - or try to finally 'get' the Dick Tracy plot.

I can remember those moments so vividly; some days I'd read right away, stealthily sneaking in a peek as I ate the French Toast my mom would make on weekends (trying desperately to look disinterested given the 'no reading at the table' rule).  

Other times, I'd fold the funnies up and save them for an afternoon read.  Then I'd grab the can of very expensive imported Cheez Balls my mom would buy at the Puerto Ordaz Delicatessen as a weekend treat and curl up on the couch, letting each ball melt slowly in my mouth as I tried to figure out the humor behind Blondie, and told myself I wasn't frightened by the blank orbs that made up Little Orphan Annie's eyes.

Funny what we remember ...

Funny what we remember ...

And in those wonderful memories I found one of those odd and extremely rare moments of justification and redemption as a mom.  In those wonderful, simple memories I was able to wholly convince myself that sometimes I do make smart decisions as a mom.  In those wonderful, redeeming memories, I was able to remind myself that sometimes having to wait for something - having to look forward to something, even the smallest something - is the best way to learn to appreciate something.

My child won't trail behind her classmates academically because she doesn't get a daily fix of Minecraft.  She won't be unpopular because she hasn't been able to design a fashionable wardrobe on Toca Design this week.  She won't be less sociable because she hasn't used a peashooter to blow off a zombie's head today.  She won't end up illiterate because she read a hard copy of Matilda instead of reading Archie comics on a tablet or an online TabTales version of Rapunzel.

Kiddo's upstairs right now building a LegoFriends cruise ship.  We haven't seen her or heard from her in the past three hours.  

So she may not be the world's next Steve Jobs ... maybe she'll just be an engineer ... or not ...

So she may not be the world's next Steve Jobs ... maybe she'll just be an engineer ... or not ...

Yesterday, she went to a friend's birthday party at the Doha Aqua Park and came back bronzed and happy, full of tales and fully spent.    

Technology of a different sort ...

Technology of a different sort ...

We watched Dances With Wolves last night as a family.  

Some nights we play Frustration or work on a puzzle.  

Her piano teacher tells us she's one of the most naturally gifted students she's worked with.  She'll never be a prima ballerina, but once a week she carts off to ballet, and once a week she does her best to perfect her cartwheel at gymnastics.  She's in a recycling club out of personal interest, and she's an avid reader.

So she doesn't own her own tablet or get to play on the computer every day ... life's not the pits.  It's delicious.  Like a bowl of cherries.

A bowl of cherries.  In a sand pit.  Glorious!

Kiddo will be ok.  Even without her own personal tablet and .com address at age 8.

Leaving ME with Grace ...

Grace :  a way of moving that is smooth and attractive and that is not stiff or awkward.  

... according to the online Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

Last day of grade 1.  Little BFF's exiting the school year with grace.  This year's exit will be much more painful I fear., as BFF is moving on.  Where has time gone?  

Last day of grade 1.  Little BFF's exiting the school year with grace.  This year's exit will be much more painful I fear., as BFF is moving on.  Where has time gone?  

A very, very good friend will soon be leaving Qatar, leaving the ME.  

She's headed to the Principality of Monaco, renown for many things, including Formula 1 races, the Monte-Carlo International Circus Festival, and Princess Grace ... 

She and her family are spring-boarding into LIFE!  Into a world that is vibrant and colorful, fresh and new.

They are moving from desert-scape to ocean vistas, from prohibition to festivals.  

From mosques to casinos, sand to surf, abayas to bikinis ... 

The contrast is blinding.

It's much like the contrast in me as I steel myself for their imminent departure;  I'm so happy for them, yet so sad to see them go.  

But this is the expat life.  This is the expat truth ... people come and people go ...

And yet ...

Some people are a little harder to let go of than others.  

This is my amazing friend.  She's a vibrant human being who's let me be Me without having to pretend I was one single thing other, celebrated the good times with me and commiserated the bad.  She's been a TRUE friend ...

And she's leaving.

And I'm sad.

I'll miss her.

A LOT.

She is Grace.  Around her, everyone moves in a way that is smooth and attractive and that is not stiff or awkward.  What did she DO that was so special?  Why will her absence permeate our day?

Because much like Princess Grace of Monaco ... it's not about her history.  It's about her presence.  My friend is an amazing presence.  Her absence will be an aching void.  Her absence will be most present in those moments when I need to send a desperate text that no one else in the world would 'get'.  

She is my 'go-to' friend in Doha.  She is my constant laugh.  She is my constant rant.  She is the friend who will always farking commiserate exactly how one is meant to commiserate;  with plenty of expletives and f-bombs.

Grace is leaving me ...

I'll miss her.

A LOT.

Her daughter is my Kiddo's BFF.  The goodbye will be hard.  Likely as hard as my last goodbye to my Dad.  I'm not making light of it.  An 8-year-old's goodbye is HELL.  

I'm dreading it.  Absolutely dreading it.  

A 44-year-old's goodbye isn't much better.

Friendships, TRUE friendships, aren't easy to come by in the ME.  I know we're not losing friends; Grace and her family are friends for life ... NOTHING changes THAT.  But the FRIENDSHIP ... that day-to-day celebration and commiseration ... well, that's going.  No soft landing.  That part will soon be over.

I'll miss it.

A LOT.

Give me Grace ....