Brussels’ first Iraqi restaurant: ‘No one else could make our food’

Summary

Athir Ghalib from Baghdad is following in a family tradition, with the aim of showing diners in Brussels that there’s more to his homeland than the images of war seen on the news

On food and drink in Flanders

Iraqi-born Athir Ghalib and his family were visiting Brussels when they decided to seek out some home-style cuisine. There was only one problem: There wasn’t any.

And so Ghalib (pictured) decided to open and run his own restaurant in the capital, just as his family have done for years in their native Baghdad. “Iraqi food is unique because our country is such an old civilisation,” explains Ghalib’s best friend and assistant, Alsaqqar Salam. “All the chefs here are Iraqi. No one else could make our food.”

After leaving Iraq during the crisis that followed the 2003 war, Ghalib made Sweden his home for nine years, before coming to Brussels in 2015. Within months he was serving up homeland specialities at Masgouf Baghdad, a few steps from the busy De Brouckèreplein in the city centre.

Brussels in September doesn’t really come close to a Baghdad heatwave. But on an unusually sizzling day, Ghalib perspires as he demonstrates the clay oven they sourced from a Pakistani-owned business in London for cooking flatbreads, or khoboze.

When it comes to ancient methods of baking bread, they wanted to compromise as little as possible, to retain the old flavours, Ghalib explains. “It must have a clay surface,” he says, pointing to the inner walls of the oven, to which the rounded, flattened dough sticks while cooking.

Anyone for sheep’s head?

Khoboze is served alongside many of the dishes offered, which range from familiar-sounding kebabs, shwarma and charcoal-grilled meats and fish, to Mousel kubbah – a Mosul speciality of a thin meat “pie” stuffed with lamb, almonds and raisins then deep fried or boiled. 

Iraqi food is unique because our country is such an old civilisation

- Alsaqqar Salam

Lamb features heavily – slow-cooked lamb shoulder, or qozy, is served with rich tomato-based sauces involving beans, aubergines or okra, while the lamb teshreeb comes with bread, potatoes and onion all chopped up into a broth. If you’re brave enough to welcome a whole sheep’s head to your table, ask for the special Sunday dish of pacha.

“We can serve the pacha chopped up instead – even some Iraqis don’t like it, but it’s an ancient and typical food, and it makes us so strong!” says waiter Ali.

“All different kinds of people have been coming here. They sometimes ask questions, because they only know Iraq from the news. It’s sad that people just think about the war; they don’t know our culture, our habits,” adds Salam, gesturing to photos on the walls of Iraq’s ancient cities and sites.

“We hope that people will come to understand more about the culture of Iraq. It’s a great, ancient civilisation, and the kind of food reflects that.”

Zwaluwenstraat 9, Brussels

Photo: Paul Dear