Over the years, Yemeni cafes have become beloved establishments for students and coffee lovers alike. But, recently they have undergone a conspicuous aesthetic makeover.
A Dubai-based interior designer is responsible for Qahwah Time’s “modernist, international minimalism” look(Nabila Eltigi)
Inside Qahwah Time, a Yemeni coffee shop in Downtown Brooklyn, the icy-cool and spicy-warm fragrance of cardamom brew hangs in the air. Undulating tan slats cascade across the ceiling, resembling the sand dunes of the Arabian Desert. The arched latticework captures the crisp light that pours through. It all comes together to form a pristine scene of understated Arab luxury.
Yemeni cafes in the US have been known for their colorful ornamentation, Arabic calligraphy, and graphics depicting the history of the Middle Eastern country’s coffee culture. But, as hundreds more have opened across the country in recent years, in what has become nothing short of a Yemeni goldrush, their aesthetics are undergoing a dramatic shift. Newer locations are increasingly pursuing a modernist, international minimalism and the result looks straight out of a Dubai shopping mall.
Adel Imathil, who opened Qahwah Time last year, explained the balancing act he instructed his Dubai-based interior designer to follow for his cafe. “A little bit of Yemen, like a little bit,” he said. “But at the same time, we don’t want to lose our identity.”
Customers are noticing. Asad Dandia, a New York City historian and tour guide, asked on X if anyone else had noticed that new Yemeni cafes have a United Arab Emirates aesthetic characterized by a “sleek, minimalist look with bright lights, no cultural branding, zero ornamentation, and Instagrammability over taste.” The post drew an outpouring of responses from across the country. “I was genuinely shocked that all these people came out of the woodworks to be like, ‘Man, I was thinking the same thing,’” Dandia told The Nation.
Hamzah Nasser, owner of the Michigan-based chain Haraz Coffee House, said he minimized overt displays of Yemeni culture that were “all too in people’s faces” as he expanded to dozens of locations nationally, hoping to appeal to a wider audience. He recounted a story of an American veteran who seemed to stand at 6 ‘7 walking into one of his early cafes in Plano, Texas to ask if non-Muslims were allowed to come inside. “I’m like, ‘Of course you’re allowed. Who said you’re not allowed?’ He said he didn’t want to barge in or be rude,” Nasser recalled.
That experience was confirmation for Nasser that he needed to take a different approach to his cafes’ interior design. Qahwah House—the chain that would come to set the template for the Yemeni cafe scene—covers a wall of its popular West Village location with a mural of founder Ibrahim Hasbani’s family tree. But this is exactly what Nasser seeks to avoid in crafting the atmosphere of his cafes. “I don’t want people to walk in and just see pictures of me and my ancestors all over the walls,” he said. “I want to just have people walk in and see the products, see a beautiful, modern design.”
Traditional Yemeni aesthetics may not always be conducive to a modern American cafe culture where people often face laptops rather than each other. Lorraine Nassif, the interior designer of dozens of Haraz locations among other coffee shops, said the darker colors and moodier lighting characteristic of typical Yemeni cafes are less suitable for students looking for a place to study for two-plus hours. “When you walk into a place that is very clean, refined and has a lighter color palette, I would say it psychologically affects you and makes you want to sit a little bit longer,” said Nassif, who grew up in Kuwait. “My approach is to take some elements of the culture and then rethink everything and design it in a way that’s relatable to our current time, especially as the target audience has changed.”
Haraz’s minimalist yet luxurious vibe was informed by Nasser’s visits to his family in Dubai, inspiring him to invoke the “clean” and “safe” atmosphere for which the Gulf city is known. After all, for many in the US, the Dubai brand has become shorthand for premium, upscale Arab and Muslim culture. The allure of Dubai has further been bolstered by the immense popularity of Dubai chocolate, the pistachio-infused trend that has captivated Generation Z globally. It has become difficult to find a deli or supermarket in the United States that does not stock at least a few Dubai chocolate-themed items; even Starbucks and Blank Street now carry pistachio coffee.
This newfound cultural cachet prompted Nasser to rebrand several products: Haraz’s pistachio cookie, for instance, was reborn as a “Dubai” cookie in the wake of the chocolate craze. “It brought us new customers that were looking for the Dubai hype,” Nasser said. The lesson, it seems, is that the Dubai label can add perceived value to any Arab product.
“For anyone to name something Dubai, it needs to meet the standard of Dubai,” Nasser said. “It’s the US Polo Association or Polo Ralph Lauren. You are gonna choose the Polo Ralph Lauren because the quality is going to be better than the US Polo Association.”
Waleed Mahdi, a professor and expert on Yemeni-American culture at the University of Oklahoma, said that the use of the Dubai branding is part of a longer history of Yemeni immigrant merchants playing on Western imaginations of the exotic Arabesque. “Those orientalist fantasies have historically led to Yemeni restaurants that have been named Ali Baba, Aladdin, or even Magic Carpet,” Mahdi said. “In my mind, Dubai is the new Aladdin.”
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So what, then, is a Dubai aesthetic? Yasser Elsheshtawy, a scholar of Gulf urbanism at Columbia University, says there is no single defining architectural style but that its hallmark is the commodification of urban space, viewing land and the built environment as profit-maximizing assets rather than public goods. To that end, he said, historic areas in the region have been largely razed and reconstituted as “open-air museums” whose function is to extract as many tourism dollars as possible. “It’s a fake environment, completely inauthentic, and…to me really represents the essence of the Gulf urban model.”
While historic Arab urban centers are characterized by lively informality where people from different socio-economic backgrounds interact, Elsheshtawy argues that the Gulf cities render large sections inaccessible to most people who cannot afford to spend money in them. “An underlying principle among many of these Gulf countries while they configure their cities and architecture is an erasure of the past and an embrace of Western modernism,” he said. “The pre-oil phase is associated with poverty and hardship, so they wanted to move away from that toward a more progressive vision.”
The Gulf has emulated this Western neoliberal urbanism so successfully that it has perhaps become more associated with the phenomenon than the West itself. As Elsheshtawy points out, the Hudson Yards development in NYC is often called “Little Dubai in Manhattan.” The UAE has, too, seen success in using this gleaming urbanism to obfuscate the uglier parts of its development model—from the exploitation of construction workers in grueling labor camps to profiting off the genocide it backs in Sudan—in order to present itself as the standard-bearer of a Western-oriented neoliberal order in the Middle East. “The problem here is that culture is being used in a way to project a certain image and political vision,” said Elsheshtawy. “The appropriate term here would be culture washing.”
The stakes for Yemeni coffee shops are certainly much lower than that of Emirati geopolitical ambitions. But the cafe owners and their designers are also trying to project a similar vision of progress. Mokhtar Alkhanshali, an entrepreneur who helped pioneer Yemeni specialty coffee in the West, observes a cultural loop at play: cafes in the Gulf adopt the highly filtered, Instagram-friendly aesthetic of Western coffee shops, while US-based Yemeni cafes in turn take their cues from the Gulf. “It’s a repackaging of a repackaging, just with a touch of Yemeni branding,” Alkhanshali said. “We have a bit of an inferiority complex where we feel we have to follow Western looks to seem like we are progressing. I don’t think it’s purely economics, it’s about wanting to look modern and successful.”
If this premium branding reels in higher-paying clientele, it is only natural for Yemeni-American entrepreneurs to utilize it when their product is pricey specialty coffee. “Interior design and architecture become tools by which you achieve that objective,” Elsheshtawy said. “It works for that customer base, it works for the investor. Whether it contributes to having an inclusive city, a city that appears lived in where everyone feels welcome—that’s a different story.”
While there is not necessarily anything wrong with Yemeni cafes having a business strategy, Elsheshtawy argues that a problem arises when that model becomes the only choice. “If you want to go to a coffee shop where you are able to work with reliable Wi-Fi and you don’t have to deal with people screaming around you, then you should be able to do that,” Elsheshtawy said. “But if you want to be in a more boisterous environment where there’s laughter, people talking loudly and comfortably, then you should also be able to do that. The problem in places like the Gulf is that they are increasingly targeted toward the former, to these more refined settings that are geared toward commerce.”
Clearly, the business model is working and there are no signs that the Yemeni cafe craze is slowing down. But the same could have been said of the growth-at-all-costs Gulf model of economic development just a few years ago. Their massive mega-projects, like the flying elevators in Saudi Arabia’s science fiction-inspired Neom region planned for its Red Sea coast, once wooed global investors, but have since been dramatically downsized as harsh financial realities set in.
Alkhanshali believes that the American Yemeni cafe bubble is similarly due to burst. “How are you able to open 200 cafes in one year across the country and make sure each cafe is consistent with quality standards, storytelling, and sourcing strategy? It’s impossible,” he said.
Whether or not Yemeni cafes are in for a mass scaling back remains to be seen. But, so long as they’re booming, questions of aesthetics persist. Qahwah Time owner Imathil, for his part, took issue with the idea that all high-end Arab culture has to be associated with Dubai. “Some people think Yemen is nothing, but if you go to Sa’ana or Aden, you’re not gonna believe it,” he said. “I want to show people that Yemenis can do luxury, too.”
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Positive representation is no small thing for a country that has garnered international attention in recent years primarily because of its devastating civil war and the subsequent Saudi-led intervention, which is now on the verge of fully reigniting. “These cafes are incredibly powerful for Arabs, and Muslims in general, because they serve as a gateway,” Alkhanshali said. “Most Americans only know about Yemen or the Middle East from negative news stories. The cafes become a bridge.”
There may be no single right way to represent Yemen in a coffee shop. But, what is clear is that the enormous popularity of Yemeni cafes has done more than anything in recent memory to buoy Yemen’s standing in the wider American cultural canon. “Despite what the interior looks like, it’s still going to be presented and perceived as something Yemeni,” said Ashrqat Saleh, president of New York University’s Yemeni Students Association. “And I think that in itself is doing good for the community.”
Mohamad RimawiMohamad Rimawi is a writer and graduate student studying Global Journalism and Near Eastern Studies at New York University.