In coffee-crazy Arab Gulf, a pricey pursuit of the perfect pot
| Hail, Saudi Arabia
At a cluster of nondescript garage-like shops in听this听northern Saudi听city,听customers听pick up and inspect the objects of their desire, the rarest of which can be worth as much as a brand-new car.
These shops have no website, no Facebook or Instagram pages, no Google business profiles, not even phone numbers. If you are a collector or simply serious about your coffee, you know.
鈥淚f you like coffee, you are going to like coffeepots. And if you want the perfect coffeepot, you听丑补惫别听to come here,鈥澨齭ays Ibrahim, a customer who made the six-hour drive up from Riyadh. 鈥淓veryone knows this is the place for听dalleh.鈥�
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onIn the Gulf Arab states, where preparing and serving Arabic coffee to friends and guests is a daily and sometimes daylong ritual, the right pot can carry a luxury price tag. It鈥檚 a price many Saudis are happy to pay.
Despite the听lack of marketing,听business is always brewing听at Hail鈥檚听Souq al-Dallal, the largest coffeepot market in the Middle East, where craftsmen forge some of the last handmade copper pots in all of Arabia.
In the coffee-crazy Arab Gulf, where Arabic coffee is a daily and sometimes daylong ritual gathering friends and honoring guests, this symbol of听identity and hospitality can carry a luxury price tag. It is a price many Saudis are more than happy to pay.
The听dalleh 鈥撎�plural听dallal听鈥撎�is the iconic Arab coffeepot, with a round base, curved neck, and ornate spout, found in markets and homes across the Middle East.听It is听ubiquitous in the Gulf,听where听it is placed prominently in guest rooms and features on Emirati and Kuwaiti currency like a founding father.
On a Monday morning, customers line up at this market听for听dalleh听repairs and refurbishing as craftsmen offer to buff away char, sand out scratches, and听fashion听replacement lids and handles.
Amid banging hammers and听whirring听machines, owners anxiously watch craftsmen pound out dents and polish their cherished coffeepots like Ferrari owners at听a body shop.
Abdullah al-Shammari waits for a worker to finish polishing his听heirloom听set of five听Hail coffeepots, a yearly tuneup to clean off 365 days鈥� worth of soot and coal ash from his daily campfire brews.
鈥淎听dalleh听coffeepot is a must-have item in any Saudi house, and here in Hail it is part of our daily life,鈥� Mr.听Shammari says as he anxiously peers over the worker鈥檚 shoulders. 鈥淲e use the听dalleh听more than our mobile phone.鈥�
鈥淭he coffeepot is a symbol of our values,鈥� he says, nodding approvingly at his pots鈥� shiny golden sheen. 鈥淚t means we are hospitable and always ready to serve a cup of coffee to a guest or a stranger to talk and share.鈥�
Meanwhile, a dozen Kuwaiti and Qatari customers browse packed shelves of used pots, on the lookout for a genuine听dalleh听made by one of the masters: Ibrahim Raslan, Mehdi Saleh, or Hussein Mazaal.
While some rummage for hidden gems, well-heeled customers head straight to the Hail National Dallal Workshop, owned by Ibrahim Radini, for a bespoke handmade coffeepot.
Like clockwork, the company鈥檚 four workers pound, flame-torch, and cool sheets of copper in various shapes as they produce the base, neck, spout, and lid of the next听custom-ordered听dalleh.
Hail听is far from the historical centers of Arab copper coffeepot production听鈥撎鼶amascus, Aleppo, and Baghdad听鈥撎齱here the art form dates back three centuries.
When Mr. Radini鈥檚 father decided to revive Saudi Arabia鈥檚 own coffeepot production 50 years ago, his goals were modest.
鈥�Dallal听are听a big part of our identity and daily life, but we kept importing from other countries and waited weeks for their arrival,鈥� says Mr. Radini.
鈥淢y father said, 鈥榃hy don鈥檛 we produce our identity here in Saudi Arabia?鈥欌��
The elder Radini recruited top coppersmiths in India and Pakistan, whose sons carry on the craft in the workshop today, producing stainless steel-lined copper pots.
Yet the significance of this workshop has grown beyond Saudi Arabia in recent years as the traditional Arab centers of coppersmiths have declined.听
Most of Iraq鈥檚 artisan coppersmiths gave up the trade over three decades of sanctions and war. The violence of the Syrian听civil听war destroyed Aleppo鈥檚 historic听Al-Madina Souk听and scattered most of the remaining Syrian coppersmiths there.
The handful of remaining听dallal听makers in Damascus now rely on machinery to mass-produce their coffeepots and use a lower grade of copper 鈥� often mixed with tin and zinc 鈥� due to inflation and sanctions.
If you want a new handmade Arab coffeepot, Mr. Radini鈥檚 workshop is one of the last places in the world to get it.
But it will cost you.
The smallest coffeepot they make runs to $2,000; larger ones go for more than $10,000.
Like any collector鈥檚 item, one听dalleh听is never enough. Saudis and Gulf citizens use at least three coffeepots to make Arabic coffee: one pot for boiling water, the second to brew coffee, and the third, smallest pot for serving. A set of five, including an extra jumbo-size pot, makes a statement.
Some听are willing and eager to spend thousands on just the right bespoke handmade pieces to place on their mantel to impress 鈥� and then serve 鈥� guests.
With the workshop only able to produce one set of five coffeepots a week, there is a monthslong waiting list.
鈥淧eople spend money on luxury clothes and watches, but you are never going to gather friends and guests around a watch,鈥� Mr. Radini says. 鈥淭hat is why for many people, true handmade coffeepots are worth the investment.鈥�
鈥淔or some people,听dallal听are听bigger status symbols听and听more听important than a car,鈥� adds Mr.听Shammari.
And the Rolls-Royce of Arab coffeepots? That would be the听qureishi,听or听qasr, a distinctive design made only in Hail.
Legend has it this design was born in the 19th century when the ruler of what was then the Hail emirate, Abdullah bin Rashid, commissioned an artisan to make a unique set of coffeepots for the royal household 鈥渦nlike any other in the world.鈥�
The craftsman, who had traveled frequently to Baghdad and Damascus, incorporated design elements from different pots: a round base听脿听la听Baghdad,听an elongated听Arabian Peninsula听neck, and a long听Damascene听spout.
He went heavy on the decor, engraving rows of intricate checkered triangles and adding solid copper symbols: cardamom pods, cloves, and a long vertical coffee bean below the spout 鈥� all key ingredients of Arabian coffee.
It takes Mr. Radini鈥檚 craftsmen an entire month to produce one听qureishi听dalleh.
Today, a set of five听qureishi听coffeepots will set you back $36,000.
But听don鈥檛 let the sticker shock fool you; the last Arab coffeepot makers鈥� future is far from certain.
Copper prices have nearly doubled听over听the past eight years: A global run on copper, driven by the rising demand for electric cars and solar panels 鈥� a shortage compounded by the Ukraine war 鈥撎齢as led听to听dalleh听price hikes.
The handmade Arab听dalleh听is increasingly becoming a luxury item beyond the听means听of middle-class Saudis, who opt instead for affordable mass-produced stainless steel听dallal听from India, Indonesia, and South Korea, priced between $30 and $50 each.
Mr. Radini says he will continue forging coffeepots as long as there鈥檚 copper and coffee.
鈥淲e Saudis know hospitality and we know coffee,鈥� he says as he holds听a half-finished pot up to the light. 鈥淎 coffeepot is not just kitchenware. It is a part of who we are.鈥�
