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DUBAI: Georges Ikhtiar, head chef at Amelia Dubai, grew up in Beirut, where he remembers watching his mother cook “by instinct, without recipes or rules.”  

That early exposure sparked a curiosity not just for flavors, but for the process of cooking — how ingredients transform, how timing and technique matter. This eventually led him to Lebanon’s Ecole Hôtelière. 

A pivotal career moment came during his time in Peru, where he was introduced to the country’s bold, acidic and layered flavors. This now shapes his approach at Amelia, where he blends Peruvian ingredients with Japanese methods. 

Here, Ikhtiar reflects on how mistakes can lead to creative breakthroughs, and gives his thoughts on simplicity in cooking.  

When you started out, what was the most common mistake you made? 

Like many young chefs, I believed that more was more — that adding extra ingredients or steps would somehow elevate a dish. I loved experimenting, and while that spirit of curiosity still drives me today, I’ve learned that simplicity is key. The most powerful flavors often come from restraint and letting the ingredients speak for themselves. 

What’s your top tip for amateur chefs? 

Taste constantly. It’s the most important tool you have. And don’t let mistakes throw you off — every error is a lesson. Some of the best ideas I’ve had started as accidents. Cooking at home should be fun, not stressful. 

What’s one ingredient that can instantly improve any dish? 

In Peruvian cuisine, it’s definitely lime. It brings brightness, aroma and a sense of freshness that can completely transform a dish. Just a few drops can awaken the palate and sharpen and enhance every other flavor. 

What’s your go-to dish if you have to cook something quickly at home? 

A simple truffle pasta. I soak the pasta to speed up the cooking time, then toss it with a creamy truffle sauce, fresh shaved truffles and parmesan. It’s rich, comforting and comes together fast, but still feels luxurious. 

When you go out to eat, do you find yourself critiquing the food?  

Always. It’s part of the job. I’m always observing, analyzing, and seeing what I like or don’t like. But I keep it to myself; dining out is also about experiencing what other chefs are creating. 

What’s the most common mistake you notice in other restaurants? 

It’s usually to do with balance or execution, like undercooked elements, seasoning that is off, or dishes that feel overcomplicated. 

What’s your favorite cuisine? 

I gravitate toward Japanese and Peruvian food, naturally, but I’m always curious to explore. I like to see how others approach flavor, presentation and structure. Inspiration can come from the most unexpected places. 

What request or behavior by customers most annoys you? 

Honestly, nothing. I believe taste is subjective and the customer is always right. We’re here to create an experience that works for them, not just for us. 

What’s your favorite dish to cook? 

It is a dish called Adas be Hamid, which means lentils with lemon. My grandmother used to make it when I was growing up in Beirut. It’s incredibly simple but full of flavor and warmth. Cooking it always takes me back to my roots, and I love how food has the power to do that. 

What’s the most difficult dish for you to get right? 

Risotto. It’s a very delicate dish that reacts to everything — temperature, timing, movement, even the humidity. You have to be fully present when making it. One misstep and the whole texture is off. 

As a head chef, what are you like? Are you a disciplinarian? Or are you more laidback? 

I’m direct and hands-on, but not someone who shouts. I believe in open communication, mutual respect and building trust. My team and I have worked together for a long time, so we understand each other without needing to say much. There’s a flow in the kitchen when everyone is aligned, and that’s what I strive for. 

Chef Georges Ikhtiar’s hokkaido machu picchu recipe 

Ingredients: 

For the beef: 

250g beef tenderloin 

Salt and black pepper, to taste 

Cooked over a robata grill (or any hot grill pan) 

For the teppanyaki vegetables: 

2 tbsp vegetable oil 

20g Chinese cabbage, chopped 

3 rainbow baby carrots, sliced 

20g mange tout (snow peas) 

10g shiitake mushrooms, sliced 

20g baby corn, halved 

1 spring onion, thickly sliced 

2 tbsp soy sauce 

2 tbsp kimchi sauce 

2 tbsp sake sauce (optional for extra depth) 

For the shiitake sauce: 

300g fresh shiitake mushrooms, sliced 

1L fresh cream 

200ml milk 

Salt and black pepper, to taste 

1 small onion, chopped 

1 tbsp butter 

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1. Grill the beef: 
Season beef with salt and pepper. Grill on a robata grill until cooked to your liking. Let it rest before slicing. 

2. Sauté the vegetables: 

Heat oil in a pan. Add the vegetables and stir-fry for a few minutes. 
Add soy sauce, kimchi sauce, and sake sauce (if using). Stir well and cook until just tender. Season with pepper. 

3. Make the shiitake sauce: 
In a saucepan, sauté onions and mushrooms in butter until soft. 
Add cream, milk, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and let simmer. Boil twice to bring out full flavor, then remove from heat. 

To plate: 

Slice the grilled beef. 

Place the sautéed vegetables on a serving plate. 

Lay the beef slices on top. 

Spoon the warm shiitake sauce to the side or over the top. 

Optional: If using a hot stone for serving, you can lightly reheat the meat on it just before eating for a fun finishing touch. 

DUBAI: Qatar’s first participation in the Venice Biennale of Architecture is a major exhibition spanning two sites in the Italian city — the ACP-Palazzo Franchetti, and the site of what will be the permanent Qatar Pavilion in the Giardini della Biennale. (That pavilion will be the first permanent addition to the historic gardens in more than 30 years.) 

The exhibition, “Beyti Beytak. My Home is Your Home. La Mia Casa è la Tua Casa,” is presented by Qatar Museums and curated by the Art Mill Museum — Qatar’s yet-to-be-built museum of modern and contemporary art — and, according to a press release “explores meanings of hospitality within the architecture, urbanism and landscape designs of the Middle East, South Asia, and North Africa region.” It features examples from 30 architects, dating from the mid-20th century to the present day.  

Aurélien Lemonier, architect and curator at the Art Mill Museum, and the exhibition’s co-curator, tells Arab News: “The exhibition reflects on the essence of hospitality, not just as tradition but as a spatial and social practice. It explores how architecture from the MENASA region fosters belonging, dignity, and collective life.” 

On the permanent pavilion’s future site stands a newly commissioned structure by Yasmeen Lari, Pakistan’s first female architect and a pioneer of humanitarian design. Her bamboo-and-palm-frond “Community Center,” created using zero-carbon, low-cost techniques, was developed through the Heritage Foundation of Pakistan, which Lari co-founded. The structure exemplifies what she calls Barefoot Social Architecture — a methodology that mobilizes local resources, community labor, and heritage crafts to produce flood- and earthquake-resistant structures, addressing, she has said, “climate and social justice.” 

“When I spoke with Yasmeen,” recalls Lemonier, “I realized her work is a direct legacy of (Egyptian architect) Hassan Fathy. Like him, she empowers the poor to build their own futures.”  

The exhibition draws a clear line of continuity from Fathy’s radical use of earthen materials and community-led design to Lari’s ‘barefoot architecture’ in Pakistan. “Fathy taught communities to build with mud brick and vernacular layouts; not only to survive but to thrive,” he says. “Lari continues that legacy by using architecture as a tool of empowerment.” 

Lemonier’s co-curator Sean Anderson, an associate professor at New York’s Cornell University, says: “For centuries, cities in the MENASA region have been shaped not by individual buildings, but by how people gather, interact, and live together. Today, that wisdom is more relevant than ever, as we witness the planet’s transformations, mirrored by technology’s drive toward a more collective, yet divided, future.” 

This spirit is echoed in the main exhibition at Palazzo Franchetti where “Beyti Beytak” becomes an immersive and archival deep dive into MENASA’s architectural richness. Some of the architects featured are being exhibiting in Venice for the first time. The curators’ ambition is to capture the continuity across generations — from pioneers such as India’s Raj Rewal, Abdel-Wahed El-Wakil of Egypt, Pakistan’s Nayyar Ali Dada, and Sri Lanka’s Minnette de Silva to contemporary leaders including Palestinian-Jordanian architect Abeer Seikaly, Bangladesh’s Marina Tabassum, Sumaya Dabbagh of ������Ƶ, and Palestine’s Dima Srouji. 

“‘Beyti Beytak’ is a testament to the architectural heritage and creativity of the Arab world and the Global South,” says Lemonier. “The future Art Mill Museum was conceived as a multidisciplinary institution, one that will embrace this richness not as a regional footnote but as a core narrative.” 

The curators have woven together an architectural narrative grounded in civic humanism, tracing three generations of architectural expression through thematic sections that include oases, mosques, museums, housing, and gardens, with a special focus on community centers and urbanism in Doha. 

“The selected architects’ work forms a chorus of alternative futures; ones where architecture is not a luxury, but a deeply human practice of care, resilience, and place making,” says Anderson. In fact, one of the pavilion’s central propositions is that, architecturally, traditional knowledge may offer more-resilient solutions to climate change than high-tech design.  

“It’s a paradox,” Lemonier admits. “You’d think triple-glazed facades and cutting-edge systems are more advanced — but mud, lime, and bamboo buildings often perform better in extreme climates. What we see with Yasmeen Lari is a reappropriation of vernacular materiality as climate adaptation.” 

Throughout the exhibition, the curators draw a sharp line between architectural conceptualism and communal responsibility.  

“Architecture is not sculpture,” Lemonier says emphatically. “It is a social and collective act. The architect must think of themselves not as an artist, but as a participant in a living society.”  

This ethos is also reflected in the Doha-based segment of the exhibition, where the urbanism of Qatar is framed as humanist and collective. “Doha offers public parks, civic space, and an architecture of sociability,” Lemonier notes. “It’s not only about the buildings, it’s also about the empty spaces that allow a community to gather. It’s not about big gestures. It’s about how architecture allows a community to live, build with care, with humility, and with others in mind. For me, that’s the measure of success in design.” 

Anderson adds: “As architects, we hold a responsibility not just to build, but to shape how we gather, connect, and see one another. Architecture isn’t static. It’s one of the most dynamic ways we experience humanity. This exhibition explores how space can be a vessel for empathy — especially in a time when technology often divides us. Yasmeen Lari’s work may be rooted in (Pakistan’s province of) Sindh, but its message transcends borders: it asks us to reflect on what it truly means to design for people.” 

By placing Lari’s work in direct dialogue with the legacy of Hassan Fathy and by elevating regional voices too often overlooked, “Beyti Beytak” challenges dominant norms in global architecture. And it offers a compelling argument: Your home is not just yours — it belongs to the community, the climate, and the culture it serves. 

For the Arab world and the broader MENASA region, “Beyti Beytak” positions architects as custodians of culture and agents of justice.   

“This exhibition is not just about buildings,” says Lemonier. “It is about how we live together, how we welcome one another and how we shape a shared future through design.” 

-ENDS-