From Riyadh to AlUla: A Saudi Arabian Foodie Road Trip

There’s something undeniably romantic about a long drive across the Saudi desert – the endless dunes, the occasional mirage, the promise of a good meal waiting at the next stop. If you’re a self‑confessed foodie, the stretch from Riyadh to AlUla reads like a menu you can’t refuse.

We started early, the city still yawning, the sun barely a blush on the horizon. Riyadh’s breakfast scene is a whirlwind of cafés serving spiced coffee and flaky samosas. I grabbed a quick falafel sandwich from a tiny stall near the highway – crisp on the outside, fluffy inside, a perfect fuel for the journey ahead.

The road snakes northward, cutting through the heart of the Najd plateau. About two hours in, we pulled into a modest town called Buraydah. Here, the aroma of “muttabaq” (a sweet, honey‑laden flatbread) wafts from every kitchen. I ducked into a family‑run restaurant where the owner, a jovial man with a thick moustache, served me a steaming pot of jareesh – crushed wheat cooked with lamb and a handful of caramelised onions. It was simple, hearty, and somehow tasted like the desert itself.

Back on the highway, the scenery shifts – from rolling sand to stark, volcanic‑rock formations that look like they belong on another planet. At the halfway point, the small oasis town of Al-Ula beckons. Before you even reach the famed sandstone arches, you’ll find a roadside stand selling “mutabbaq” stuffed with spiced goat meat. The combination of tender meat and the thin, buttery pastry is a revelation; you’ll find yourself reaching for another bite before the sandwich is even half‑finished.

AlUla isn’t just a feast for the eyes; it’s a banquet for the palate. Once you’ve parked your car, the real adventure begins. The city’s historic core is dotted with eateries that blend centuries‑old recipes with a dash of modern flair. One place I can’t forget is a courtyard café where they serve saleeg – a creamy rice porridge drizzled with ghee and topped with roasted almonds. It’s the kind of comfort food that warms you from the inside out, especially after a day of wandering the ancient rock tombs.

If you have time, head to the nearby village of Al‑Khuraybah. The locals there take pride in their maraq – a rich, slow‑cooked goat broth seasoned with dried limes and a whisper of cinnamon. Served in earthen bowls, the broth feels like a hug; you sip it slowly, letting the flavors settle.

Of course, no Saudi foodie trip would be complete without a taste of dates. In AlUla, the date palms grow wild, and the fruit is sweeter than any you’ll find in the city markets. I stopped at a small stand where the owner offered me a basket of fresh, caramel‑soft dates. He explained that these particular varieties are harvested only once a year, making each bite a fleeting treasure.

As the sun set, the desert sky turned a deep indigo, and the temperature dropped enough to make a hot cup of qahwa (Arabic coffee) feel like a blessing. I sat on a stone wall, watching the silhouette of the iconic Elephant Rock, and sipped the coffee spiced with cardamom. The lingering bitterness was perfectly balanced by a sweet piece of baklava that the café’s owner handed me as a parting gift.

Driving back to Riyadh, the road feels less like a highway and more like a story you’ve just lived. You’ve tasted ancient recipes, met generous strangers, and discovered that the real spice of Saudi Arabia isn’t just in the food – it’s in the hospitality that comes with every plate.

If you’re planning your own culinary pilgrimage, remember to give yourself time. Don’t rush the stops, chat with the chefs, and, above all, keep an open palate. The Kingdom is full of surprises, and the journey from Riyadh to AlUla proves that some of the best dishes are found off the beaten path.