Chappati

One of the fallouts of building a gigantic, supposedly sophisticated and successful society in the desert, as is with most Gulf countries, is nothing grows on the sand – apart from dates and really bad attitudes. So, to feed your new-found metropolis you have to import everything and in the food sector that generally means not the best or healthiest of fresh raw ingredients is available to the average Ali here. The tragedy for me, who can do, without farm fresh veggies, and with smelly Kiwi beef, is in the form of the humble chappati. The wheat here sucks.