The moment I landed in Baghdad, I knew I had stepped into a city where history and modern life wove themselves seamlessly together. The ancient streets hummed with stories, the bustling markets overflowed with colours and aromas, and the people welcomed me with warmth that felt instantly familiar. But as always, it was food that offered me the most intimate introduction to a place.

And in Iraq, no dish tells the story of the land quite like Kubbah or Kubbah Saray.

The Anticipation of a Legend

Even before I tasted it, Kubbah had already acquired a mythical status in my mind. Friends, colleagues, and even strangers spoke of it with reverence, as if it were more than just a dish—something closer to a cultural emblem. When my dear friend, the ever-enthusiastic foodie Mohammed Al-Samarrae, suggested we head to a small eatery in Karrada Dakhil, I knew the moment had arrived.

The destination was Kubbat al-Baghdady, an unpretentious restaurant known across the district for serving only one thing: Kubbah. From the outside, it looked modest. But as we stepped in, a warm atmosphere greeted us—laughter in the air, the hiss of oil, and the unmistakable aroma of spices that seemed to wrap around me like a welcome embrace.

There was no menu to pore over. This place thrived on confidence in its craft. Within moments of sitting down, a plate of golden Kubbah, a bowl of tangy broth, and fresh, fluffy sumoon bread landed on our table.

The First Bite: A Revelation

The Kubbah looked almost regal—perfectly fried golden domes with a crisp shell that cracked at the lightest touch. I picked one up, feeling the warmth seep through, and took my first bite.

The crunch of the outer shell gave way to a tender, juicy center. Inside was minced meat, seasoned with cinnamon, cumin, and coriander—flavours both bold and comforting. The surprise of pine nuts added a delicate crunch, elevating the texture and balancing the richness.

It was perfection. A harmony of textures, a dance of spices, and above all, the unmistakable feeling of comfort.

I glanced at Mohammed, and he smiled knowingly. “Now,” he said, “you understand why we call this the king of dishes.”

From Palaces to People

Over steaming soup and bread, Mohammed shared the story of Kubbah Saray. Its very name—“saray,” meaning palace—was a clue to its prestigious past. Legend says it was once a delicacy of the Ottoman sultans, who feasted on these golden morsels in their lavish courts. Some food historians, however, trace its roots even further back, to the Abbasid Caliphate, when Baghdad was the cultural and culinary heart of the Islamic world.

The thought struck me: here I was, sitting in a bustling local eatery, enjoying the same dish that might have graced the gilded tables of emperors, caliphs, and sultans. The dish had travelled centuries, surviving dynasties, upheavals, and reinventions, and today it remained not just alive but thriving—now a beloved comfort food for ordinary Baghdadis.

More Than Food: A Cultural Connection

As I devoured another kubbah, I couldn’t help but reflect on how food bridges time and identity. In each bite, I tasted not just spices and meat but the richness of Iraq’s layered history—the influence of the East and the West, the echoes of ancient kitchens, the enduring traditions of families who keep these recipes alive.

Around me, the restaurant buzzed with life. Families laughed together, old friends shared stories, and solitary diners savoured their meals in quiet contemplation. Despite our different backgrounds, we were all connected in that moment, united by a plate of golden kubbah.

It wasn’t just food. It was memory, culture, and community served on a plate.

Conclusion: A Dish That Tells a Story

My experience with Kubbah was more than a culinary adventure—it was a cultural immersion, a taste of Iraq’s soul distilled into one dish. Every bite told a story of resilience, heritage, and shared humanity.

If you ever find yourself in Baghdad, don’t just eat Kubbah—experience it. Let it connect you to centuries of history, to the stories of a city that has endured and thrived, and to the people who carry its traditions forward.

For me, Kubbah will forever be more than a dish. It will be a reminder that the simplest plate of food can carry within it the weight of history, the warmth of community, and the unmistakable flavour of belonging.