Doha, Qatar – To say Shams al-Qassabi is an effusive character is to hit the nail on the (pleasant) head.
“Howdy, whats up, whats up. Welcome!” is what you hear as you stroll into her restaurant. For those who ponder whether this petite lady one way or the other is aware of who you might be, she doesn’t – however she’s going to greet you want long-lost household anyway.
Shams, who’s in her 60s, is the proprietor and drive behind Shay al-Shomous, a bustling breakfast spot in Doha’s Souq Waqif (the Standing Market).
We had been led into the restaurant, in direction of a basic buzz of dialog accompanied by the tinkling of tiny spoons towards tea glasses as households and teams of pals enjoyable on a Friday morning, anticipating the weekend forward.
Eman, Shams’s daughter who helps out on the restaurant on the weekends, confirmed us to a desk that appeared a lot too massive for 2. “For all of the meals,” she chuckled, gesturing that we didn’t want to fret, she knew precisely how massive the desk wanted to be.
“Tea?” she requested briskly, already gesturing to one of many waiters.
“Sure, please.”
“Milk or no milk?”
“Milk.”
“OK, tea with saffron or cardamom?”
So many selections. Saffron gained for the day.
Quickly, Shams – whose title means Solar – got here to see us, a bustling determine, adjusting the black shayla snugged round her face. She welcomed us once more and regarded round her ethereal restaurant with its inexperienced tables and easy chairs at folks coming in or leaving. Everybody wished to say “whats up” or “see you quickly”, and she or he spoke to everybody. Some conversations had been hotter and extra acquainted, indicating that these had been outdated prospects or pals, whereas others launched themselves and thanked her for a tremendous meal.
![Sunshine for breakfast in Doha’s Souq Waqif - Fifa Information 7 A phot of Shams as she smiles slightly at the camera](https://i0.wp.com/fifanews.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/1665999223_474_Sunshine-for-breakfast-in-Dohas-Souq-Waqif-Fifa-News.jpg?w=1170)
“All proper, now you eat, OK?” she mentioned, the look on her open, smiling face telling us there was just one doable reply. Waving away the suggestion that we’d select one thing from the menu, she walked off, adjusting the shoulders of her black abaya and assuring us that we’d eat what she served.
Plate after plate of meals got here out of the kitchen, bringing with them a tantalising scent of cardamom and saffron that rose from the desk like a reassuring hug. There have been bowls of boiled fava beans and chickpeas, cones and folds of impossibly skinny wafer-like breads with delectable fillings, two totally different sorts of scrambled eggs, and a dish of vermicelli with egg on high. A breakfast unfold that introduced: “It’s the weekend now.”
Extra tea was introduced and poured, and the consuming commenced.