Thirty Days of Kabsa: An American's Confession from the Riyadh Grocery Aisle

I arrived in Riyadh with a carry-on full of good intentions: protein bars, a reusable water bottle, and a vague promise to myself that I would 'eat clean' while adjusting to a new job, a new city, and a nine-hour time difference from my family in Ohio.

Thirty days later, I stepped on the scale in my furnished apartment and discovered I had gained six pounds. This is the honest accounting of how that happened — and what I wish someone had told me before I landed.

Week One: The Rice Is Not a Side Dish

My first mistake was treating kabsa like a Wednesday meatloaf. In the American Midwest, rice is a supporting actor. In Riyadh, it is the star, the plot, and the sequel. My first week of work lunches — generously ordered by new colleagues who insisted I 'try everything' — featured platters of fragrant rice, lamb, and chicken that could have fed my entire book club back in Columbus.

Saying no felt rude. Saying yes felt delicious. My belt quietly filed a complaint.

The Café Problem

The second surprise was the café culture. Riyadh's coffee scene rivals anything in Seattle or Austin — karak chai, Saudi qahwa with dates, and iced lattes the size of a small engine. Every meeting, every errand, every evening stroll seems to orbit a café.

The catch: the sweetened drinks add up fast, and the dates that accompany them are deceptively caloric. I was essentially drinking dessert three times a day and calling it networking.

The Water Discipline Nobody Mentions

Here is the part that actually saved me: water. Riyadh's dry desert climate dehydrates you faster than a Kansas August, and the thirst can masquerade as hunger. By week two, I had trained myself to drink three liters a day before touching any food. Half my 'cravings,' it turned out, were just my body asking for hydration.

American expats who skip this step tend to snack their way through the adjustment period. The ones who carry a bottle everywhere — grocery runs, meetings, the Corniche on a weekend trip — fare dramatically better.

American Products Are Hiding on Riyadh Shelves

The homesickness cure came from an unexpected place: the grocery aisle. Riyadh's major supermarket chains — Panda, Carrefour, Lulu, and Tamimi — stock a surprising amount of American comfort. I found Skippy peanut butter, Cheerios, Kraft mac and cheese, Ranch dressing, and even Dr Pepper, all within a ten-minute drive of my apartment.

Prices run higher than back home on imported goods, so my strategy became simple: local produce and dairy as the foundation, imported comforts as the occasional treat. Saudi dates, labneh, fresh flatbread, and the phenomenal local produce turned out to be better than anything I could have shipped over anyway.

Your First 30 Days: A Food Survival List

For newly arrived American workers and their families, here is the list I wish had been handed to me at the airport:

• A big water bottle, per person. Non-negotiable. Refill it constantly.
• Dates and Arabic coffee for the pantry, not the candy bowl. Enjoy them; just count them.
• One rice rule: order kabsa and mandi as the experience they are — twice a week, not nightly.
• Labneh, zatar, and fresh bread for breakfast. Cheaper and lighter than the cereal-and-toast habit you'll be tempted to rebuild.
• A grocery app or delivery account. Careem and local supermarket apps deliver, which saves you from impulse-aisle decisions during your tired first weeks.
• Familiar American brands, in moderation. Find them, note the prices, and resist buying a month's supply of mac and cheese out of panic.
• One café treat per day. Pick your moment. The karak at 4 p.m. hits differently when you've earned it.

The Verdict at Day Thirty

Six pounds, one water habit, and a genuinely transformed grocery cart later, I've made peace with the month. Riyadh did not sabotage me — my inability to say no to hospitality did. The city's food culture is generous, social, and genuinely excellent, and the fix was never avoidance. It was structure.

Americans landing in Riyadh should expect the first month to be delicious, slightly disorienting, and a little heavier than planned. Drink the water. Learn the rice portion. And when a colleague insists you try the jareesh — say yes. Some things are worth the belt notch.