This was my weekend dining-out experience as a child. Aba Jan and I, along with his friends, would sit on those old wooden ottoman-style benches called majlis and enjoy the most flavoursome fish. It was perfectly cooked: crispy on the outside, fluffy and moist on the inside, served with fresh pitta bread, pitta squares (fried in the same salty, fishy oil), fresh tomato salad, daqqus, humr (tamarind sauce) and plain or fisherman’s/Siyadiah rice. It was often served on