Ramen for comfort, wine for ease, gold for play, brownies for joy, and the last slice of pizza, not because we’re hungry, but because that’s what everyone wants to eat. By: Purva Grover At first glance at the food hall, you’d think these people don’t belong together. Until you realize you’ve been each of them. The …
Ramen for comfort, wine for ease, gold for play, brownies for joy, and the last slice of pizza, not because we’re hungry, but because that’s what everyone wants to eat.
By: Purva Grover
At first glance at the food hall, you’d think these people don’t belong together. Until you realize you’ve been each of them. The one donning sunglasses during the day, the one in sweatpants worried over calorie intake, the one with a newspaper tucked under his arm, the one staring into a phone, deep in TikTok, the one in harem pants paired with an I Love Dubai T-shirt; the one with a luxe handbag placed carefully beside her, the one with a book for company, and the one doting on his two little girls. It’s hard to say if there’s a link between them all—barring one, perhaps: they slept well on the 31st night.
It is a Thursday morning, January 1, and Dubai is still drowsy, having spent hours until and beyond midnight welcoming the New Year. Fireworks and drone shows, carefree singing and dancing, the cutting of cakes and clinking of glasses, and the countdown—all of it left many happily exhausted. By the time we make it for lunch, it is close to noon, still early for a New Year’s luncheon. The streets are not just empty but sparkling clean; every trace of celebration has been swept away by those who stayed awake and worked hard when others called it a night. And that, perhaps, is what makes the world quietly envious of Dubai. 2026 is here, and the doors remain open—for those who welcomed it at midnight and for those, like us, who chose to begin the year with a cozy meal.
Inside, the light is pale, filtering through angular glass before settling gently at the tables. The air conditioning isn’t set to Arctic, and the January sun streaming in keeps the space warm. In between bites of a gooey, melt-in-the-mouth, slightly warm chocolate brownie (The Coffee Lab), she says, “When did celebrations and the most special occasions turn into cheat days?” She’s right. Everyone pauses. Four forks reach for the sole brownie, now crumbled. Everyone takes a bite, smiling, without guilt. No one suggests splitting it evenly. No one counts bites.
Soft music plays in the background. A woman stifles a yawn and wonders aloud, “Maybe I should go in for a protein shake—start the year right.” On her phone, she’s likely checking gym hours for the 1st, weighing flax seeds against chia. “I’ll have a Manhattan (C Bar),” her partner announces. She hesitates. She does want to start the year clean—but it has been years since she allowed herself to celebrate without pressure. As her husband scans the QR code to place the order, she reaches for his phone and adds a glass of Celeste, Rueda DO, to the cart. The glasses clink. A wink. A side hug. She realizes this isn’t about wine. It’s about permission.
At another table, a family of three settles in. “Where have you been?” the mother asks. “I’m hungry,” the teenage son replies, phone in hand. “Where’s the pizza?” “We can do this—one family lunch every month,” the father says, half-hopeful. They’re happy he’s here, even with his head bent over the screen. The last slice of Burrata Pizza (KONA Pizza House by Reif; Italian–Japanese fusion) remains. As a child, he always fouht for the last chocolate cookie, the last sip of strawberry shake, and the final bite. His eyes light up. Thinking his parents aren’t looking, he grabs the slice. Laughter erupts. Just like that, a ritual returns. A memory is made. It isn’t the pizza he’s fighting for—it’s the habit of being here.
Nearby, tourists scan the menu with excitement. “This is Dubai—I’m surely having the Dubai Roll (Crudo Raw Tapas Bar; Peruvian). It comes with gold.” Gold and glitter land on the table, phones follow. They scroll for tickets to At The Top. Sunset seems like a good idea. Maybe an abra ride after—for AED 1. The Dubai of space-for-everyone finds its way quietly into their hearts.
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