Al-Jouf, the Northern star
A key city on the Spice Routes, Sakakah, the capital of the Al-Jouf region, is the beating heart of agriculture in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.
A key city on the Spice Routes, Sakakah, the capital of the Al-Jouf region, is the beating heart of agriculture in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.
As he navigates the Al-Jouf region close to Sakakah in the northwest of the Kingdom, Osama shares that historically, Al-Jouf, or Al-Jawf, has served as the key waypoint on the caravan trade route connecting the western regions of the Arabian Peninsula, and subsequently to Europe. Traders and pilgrims from the Levant journeyed through on their way to Makkah. Spices from South Asia, the Indonesian Spice Islands and the Far East travelled along this route, ultimately shaping the flavours of Arabia. Cumin, cinnamon, clove, cardamom, sumac and other spices are still found in many Saudi dishes. “The olive trees mean a lot to the people of Al-Jouf,” says Osama Altaleb, the son of a farmer and the founder of the exclusive tour agency Nomads of the North. “They have nourished us for centuries. We also extract their oil that we use as fuel for our lights, for heat and cooking. We genuinely enjoy gathering to cook, play music and engage in conversation. Hospitality is embedded in our culture, and we can never refuse a request. But we always find a way to accommodate,” Osama chuckles. Food is what truly connects us.
Sand, stars and spices
Sakakah is nestled between mountains and the vast desert, a valley surrounded by mountainous territory. “I was just 12 when my dad took me for a ride in the dunes. Yes, I was allowed to drive the car myself, and if you know anything about Saudi Arabia, you will see that they teach you how to drive a car from a very young age.” As the sun sets, Osama traverses the dunes and pauses at a rock adorned with prehistoric archaeological drawings. History surrounds him. In less than 15 minutes, darkness envelops the landscape. After navigating another sandy ridge, Ahmed stands directly before his brother, nestled between the slopes of the dunes in a wind-sheltered spot. Ahmed Altaleb, dressed in a crisp, snow-white thawb, wears an American cap and a broad smile as he begins to unload his truck to prepare a fire and Saudi coffee. The lively colours dance around him. The vibrant hues of the warm, earthy, sandy hills contrast beautifully with the white thawb and the food truck’s plush red tapestry. A breathtaking visual experience. This scene beautifully highlights the incredible skill of the Saudi chef, who utilises the abundance of trade routes to prepare iconic dishes like Kabsa, Haneeth and Mandi. These meals feature simmered rice and tender chicken or lamb, all infused with a rich broth seasoned with black pepper, cardamom, saffron, dried lime, coriander and cumin. They waft a wonderful variety of spices. Friends gather and in the fire the dallahs (coffee pots) are simmering with qahwa, the golden treasure of the Kingdom. Ahmad serves us dates and in the finjān, three sips of coffee are poured. Faisal Al Qader, a close friend of the brothers and a chef at home, starts rinsing basmati rice in a bowl of water that Ahmed magically pulls out of his truck for the traditional Saudi dish called Mandi that they are preparing. Meanwhile, everyone comes together around the warm glow of the fire under countless stars, making you feel like you’re part of a magical Arabian adventure out of the pages of One Thousand and One Nights. Faisal explains that Mandi is made from rice, meat (lamb, goat, chicken) and a mixture of spices called hawaij. He uses a blend of cumin, coriander, black pepper, turmeric, cardamom and cinnamon. The saffron he adds turns the chicken carmine red. He rubs the chicken with the mixture, adding dried egg yolk, olive oil and salt. In the meantime, pumpkin, onions and red peppers are thrown in the boiling rice. In the desert, it’s not possible to simply construct a tandoor oven; instead, they unload a massive, high-pressure steam oven from their pickup truck. The chicken is placed on a grill on top of the bowl of rice and vegetables. The oven closes for 60 minutes, and while waiting, stories are told and the oud and tarabuka are played. Mandi is served on the Sijjad carpet, and the juicy, tender chicken falls off the bones. Using the right hand, one scoops it up with their fingers, and it ends up in the mouth with much delight. In the hand, the rice is compressed to blend all the flavours.
A blessing in the desert
Teapots are put on the fire, and just as with coffee, tea is prepared with love and generosity towards the guests sitting on the carpet, enjoying the desert and the starry sky. “This is so important to us,” emphasises Osama. “Being together, taking care of each other, and sharing the food. We also have truffles here in the desert, but that is only when it has rained enough in the winter. During a small window of time, in early spring, they can be found; however, not by dogs as in Europe, but just by our bare hands.” Osama shows pictures of huge truffles that were picked last year in the middle of the desert. “It’s a special delicacy, and we prepare them with the family in a simple rice dish. We also grill them and put them with a bit of olive oil on our homemade Motahan bread.” “Eat olive oil and use it on your hair and skin, for it comes from a blessed tree,” says the Quran. The sun rises over the valley, and Sakakah looks deserted from a distance but is far from it. Morning means less heat, and everyone is busy getting things done before it becomes excruciatingly hot. On the way to the desert, in an oasis studded with palm trees, breakfast is served. It feels surreal. Al-Jouf is full of contrasts. From sandy beige landscapes and orange dunes to miles of green fields and palm trees laden with dates. Along the way is an abandoned amusement park, Bedouin tents made of goat hair to safeguard the livestock, and spice traders serving fresh coffee from their carriages. Leaving the city, past desert lands and behind the hills and rocks, lush fields and orchards await. Al-Jouf earns its title of “bread basket” thanks to the variety of crops grown there.
Tree of life
Talal, the son of Abdul Maleh Allhid, the owner of one of the largest olive farms in the area, tells us why the reddish soil in Al-Jouf is so fertile: “It contains a lot of minerals, like our own blood, which is red due to iron atoms. In addition, our limestone reduces the acidity and provides the necessary calcium for the growth of the orchard. We can even grow strawberries now.” Talal’s olive orchards and palm trees receive a lot of love, and that’s why the fruits are so big, he claims with a broad smile. “You take care of your trees, you cut them the right way, you water them, and the trees show their gratitude by giving you all these luscious fruits.” Al-Jouf green olives are of exceptional quality and have a distinct flavour characterised by an ideal balance of acidity and a rich aromatic taste. As the sun sets between the branches, Talal prepares a fire with the pulp of the olives. “Approximately 25% of an olive is utilised for oil; the leftover pulp is turned into fertiliser, and we use the pits to light our barbecue. The olive tree is a unique plant for us, blessed by our prophet Muhammad.” Pointing to the centre of his orchard, he shows a self-made museum built from generation to generation with a collection of dallahs. Saudi coffee is served, highlighting Saudi hospitality at every opportunity. Olive oil plays a significant role in Saudi culture and heritage, representing prosperity. Each year, Al-Jouf honours the olive tree with a festival that spans several days. In Jawf you will find the Surani olive. Its fruits are medium-sized and can be used for oil extraction and pickling. The oil content of this variety ranges from 20% to 27%. The Picholine olive has a moderate oil content and is used for green and black pickling. In Sakakah, the Zaity olive yields a considerable oil production of up to 30%, with fruit sizes varying from small to medium.
Desert bread
Early morning, hidden between the clay houses in Sakakah, Al Eishan serves a rustic Saudi breakfast. You see the baker in the corner of the house making traditional Al-Jouf Magshush bread. Flour, salt, water, no sugar added. A pancake-like dough baked on a hot iron plate. The craftsmanship involved in turning it over by hand on a very hot plate is what makes it so spectacular. Once done, the flatbread is folded into thirds. To prevent burning his hand, the baker places it in a bowl of water before flipping. While seated on the Sijjad, we dip the bread in extra virgin olive oil. The purity and simplicity of these flavours will remain unforgettable. On the border of the Sakakah village, meat and vegetable traders are busy trying to negotiate the best price for their items at the city’s food souk. The heat is intense, but it doesn’t seem to bother them. Osama buys a snack, baael, from the local store – hard salty sticks made from dried milk, typical of the area – introducing it as the healthy, nutritious food you need to conquer the heat. In his bakery, Redha doesn’t seem to mind the temperature rising above 50°C as he bakes the typical Sakakah Motohan flatbread. Again, no sugar is added, and it is delicious with grilled lamb or camel and yoghurt. In the back of the store, Magshush is flipped while customers come in and out to buy these cornerstones of culinary delight, the basis of their homemade cooking later that day.
On the camel tracks
Abou Hussain from Ali Al Ansi is dancing and singing behind his counter while cutting his high-quality camel and goat meat. Ahmad says the man is the richest in the village and has the best quality of livestock in the province, from camels to goats and sheep. Hussain shows us the camel’s hump and explains it’s the best part of the precious animal. As fatty and marbled as Wagyu beef, the camel, long revered as “the ship of the desert”, symbolises Saudi heritage and identity. Hussain takes great pride in his animals. The true adventure begins when he drives us 20 kilometres into the desert to his farm. Along the journey, he pauses to grab a drink to celebrate the opportunity to show off his hundreds of camels. The Holwa date of Al-Jawf, or the sweet of Al-Jouf, is the precious ruby of the province. There isn’t an hour or moment of the day that goes by without dates on the table or next to your coffee. As a matter of fact, Arabic coffee and dates are the apéro of the Kingdom. The reddish dates of Al-Jouf are of exceptional sweetness and quality, according to Lady Anne Blunt, the granddaughter of Lord Byron, when she visited the region in 1879 to write her A Pilgrimage to Nejd. She remarked that these dates offer an unforgettable taste. The date is sizable, sweet and red. They can be enjoyed fresh, dried or stuffed with maknouz (a general term referring to various fillings). It’s fermented and dried in barrels for up to two months. The darkness and stickiness, as well as the deep black colour, are very characteristic, and they are considered as a natural healthy candy. Their refreshing taste is enjoyed by all. Another typical Al-Jouf treat that is well known throughout the Kingdom is Al-Bukayla. This sweet paste made from Holwa dates mixed with flour is commonly served with ghee (clarified butter) as a dip. The special highlight is that it is immersed in the rare and highly coveted samh seeds. The Al-Samah plant, distinctive to this region, is known as a vital food source. Its seeds are used in the preparation of breads, cakes, baraziq (sesame cookies), and much more.
A coffee and a date
As night falls, Ahmed and Osama lead us to the home of Meteb, the son of a veteran general in the King’s Army. Coffee is prepared and served on round palm leaf mats. Meteb brews Saudi coffee sourced from the southern province of Jazan, using Khawlani coffee beans. He roasts the beans himself. “I roast them briefly; that gives them this clear colour. However, it does not affect the caffeine content. Saudi coffee is light brown, and I balance the spices meticulously. The perfect amount of cardamom, saffron, cloves, ginger and ajwain.” Meteb presents the coffee in the traditional regional manner. The cup holds just three sips, accompanied by a date on the side. You first taste the date, then savour the coffee. He explains that in this region, when a servant pours coffee, Saudis typically do not refuse. You can subtly indicate “no” by shaking your right hand, which holds the cup. “In that way, you avoid saying no, even though someone is constantly filling your cup,” he chuckles. In the area reserved for women only, Meteb’s daughter explains that in Al-Jouf, the order of dishes for dinner is sweets and coffee first, followed by tea, and then salted delicacies and nuts. A homemade cake with samh seeds is shared. She refers to it as the “sand of the desert cake”, combining flour, yoghurt, vanilla, olive oil and an abundant amount of samh seeds, which symbolise the sand of the desert. After this two-hour ceremony with music, talking and laughing, and when it’s well into the dark evening, dinner is served. The flavours blend harmoniously under the beautiful, starry night sky.
By Kirsten Ujvari