Weekends have a way of nudging us toward indulgence. Some seek retail therapy, others spiritual renewal. I, however, found myself seduced by a restaurant whose name whispered sweet nothings in Arabic: Ahwak—“I love you.” And really, how could I resist?

Tucked inside Baghdad’s Mansour Mall, Ahwak is a Lebanese oasis amid the mall’s kinetic hum. Its décor is a flirtation between modern chic and Levantine nostalgia—think geometric tiles, warm wood, and the kind of lighting that flatters both your mood and your mezze.

Enter Trabelsiyeh: Tripoli’s Culinary Sonnet

The menu read like a passport stamped with garlic, lemon, and longing. But one dish stood out like a mysterious stranger at a dinner party: Trabelsiyeh. A name that evokes Tripoli, Lebanon’s coastal jewel, where seafood is less cuisine and more religion.

Trabelsiyeh is a poetic riff on Sayadieh, the Middle Eastern fish-and-rice classic. It’s the kind of dish that doesn’t shout—it hums. A quiet confidence built on caramelized onions, spiced rice, and fish so tender it could moonlight as a lullaby.

Sayadieh: The Dish That Knows Who It Is

Sayadieh is culinary minimalism with a wink. It’s not trying to impress you with foam or flambé. It’s here to nourish you, seduce you slowly, and leave you wondering why you ever settled for plain grilled salmon.

• The fish: golden-seared whitefish, kissed by the sweetness of onions.
• The rice: fragrant with cinnamon and allspice, like a spice bazaar in full bloom.
• The finish: toasted nuts for crunch, tahini for creaminess, and a drizzle of lemon for drama.

At Ahwak, the Trabelsiyeh version added a tahini flourish that turned the dish into a love triangle—fish, rice, and sesame, locked in a passionate embrace.

A Bite-Sized Trip to Tripoli

Each forkful was a postcard: the salty breeze of Tripoli’s coast, the clatter of Beirut’s fish markets, the laughter of Lebanese families gathered around a table. It was food as memory, food as metaphor, food as a declaration of love.

What struck me most was how Sayadieh encapsulates Lebanese culinary traditions: the use of humble ingredients to create something extraordinary, the interplay of sweet and savoury, and the deep respect for seafood.

Nourishment Beyond Nutrition

Sayadieh isn’t just delicious—it’s democratic. It uses humble ingredients to create something transcendent. It’s the kind of dish that reminds you that comfort and complexity aren’t mutually exclusive. That love, like good food, is often found in the simplest things.

Final Thoughts: Sahtain to the Soul

As I left Ahwak, belly full and heart fuller, I realized I hadn’t just eaten—I’d traveled. I’d communed with a culture that understands that food is more than sustenance. It’s storytelling. It’s memory. It’s love.

So, why not let Sayadieh whisk you away on a flavourful adventure? Trust me, it’s a journey worth taking.