Food Review // Sana - Uzbek Cuisine at Jumeirah Mina Al Salam

Savoring the Unexpected: An Elevated Uzbek Iftar in Dubai

This year, I set out with one goal: to uncover Dubai’s most unique Iftar experiences. The city’s ever-evolving F&B scene has expanded at remarkable speed over the last few years, and with it a new world has opened up. While traditional Ramadan spreads are a staple and remain a beautiful tribute to the region’s heritage, it’s the emergence of globally inspired Iftars that reflect the culturally diverse landscape that is Dubai.

This journey led me to Sana, a newly opened Uzbek restaurant at the ever-elegant Mina Al Salam.

With little prior exposure to Uzbek cuisine beyond glowing word-of-mouth endorsements, I arrived curious and cautiously optimistic. The menu immediately felt both comforting and unfamiliar – a selection of mixed grills, slow-cooked lamb, tomato and onion salads, alongside mantis and samsas.

The components were recognisable, yet there was an undeniable sense that the flavours would distinguish themselves in ways I hadn’t quite experienced before. What, exactly, distinguishes Uzbek cuisine from its regional cousins? What gives it identity? And perhaps most intriguingly – how does this cuisine hold up in the elegant surroundings of one of Dubai’s most luxurious resorts?

With a world leadership summit in full swing the night of our reservation, we were detoured to the Jumeirah Beach Hotel lobby, where a buggy awaited to whisk us away to Sana. True to Jumeirah’s reputation, we were greeted with warmth and professionalism, and soon we were perched in a six-seater golf cart, ready for our mini adventure. As we “Yabba Dabba Doo’d” a la Flinstones, speeding along winding, narrow pathways & laughing at the sheer thrill of it. Along the way, we passed so many restaurants – instantly adding a few to our ever-growing mental map of Dubai’s vibrant dining scene.

By the time we arrived at Sana, the ride had already set the tone: something special awaited.

Once we hopped off the buggy, still giddy from our unexpected journey to dinner, we wandered toward a tranquil lagoon – with Sana shimmering across the water, inviting us in. We stopped dead in our tracks, it was picture-perfect, and yes, we took far more photos than strictly necessary.

As we approached we were greeted with smiling faces and what we soon understood to be Uzbek hospitality, warm and inviting. With the evening still pleasantly cool, we opted for the patio perched over the water – and it truly felt like the best seat in the house. This isn’t a decision we take lightly. Typically, we avoid outdoor seating: no matter how beautiful the setting, the meal often suffers. Too many times, a gust of wind has turned a main course ice-cold in minutes, leaving a memory more frustrating than memorable. But tonight was different. Our dishes stayed warm long enough for us to snap pictures, and then fully enjoy them at the correct temp. Whatever sorcery this was, we were here for it.

Iftar at Sana was a set Chef’s tasting menu, leaving us free to focus on the real dilemma of the evening: choosing a cocktail from their playful, inventive menu. I went for the BAHOR – a blend of Grey Goose vodka, St. Germain, and a pea cordial. The drink was fruity with just a touch of sweetness, served in an impossibly tall, enviable glass that I half wanted to take home. My partner opted for the ISFARAK, a whimsical concoction of Bombay Sapphire, tarragon, passion fruit liqueur, carrot cordial, and topped with a little carrot candy. Vibrant orange from the carrot juice, visually delightful, and sweetly balanced – it could easily have starred at a Mad Hatter tea party.

And just as we were settling into our seats, taking in the view and enjoying the atmosphere, the meal began with two salads and freshly baked tandoor bread. The first, Tashkent Salad, was a julienned radish salad topped with thinly shaved veal, boiled egg, and a yogurt dressing. It was far milder than I expected—the yogurt wasn’t too sour, and the radishes carried barely a hint of spice. Every bite was well-balanced and fresh. My partner, ever picky about boiled eggs, wasn’t a fan, but I found it intriguing—a dish unlike anything I’d tasted before, and exactly the kind of culinary adventure I love.

The second salad was a melange of tomatoes, marinated with green chili and fresh herbs. We were told the tomatoes came straight from Uzbekistan—a detail that would pop up throughout the evening, as many of the ingredients were carefully sourced directly from the country. The tomatoes were perfectly ripe and delicately dressed, pairing wonderfully with the bread. Speaking of bread—it looked like a playful hybrid between a simit and a bagel, topped with sesame seeds. The crust was crusting, while the inside was soft and airy, almost like a Vietnamese baguette. When the salad plates were cleared, we asked to keep the bread “just in case.” We never needed it, but having it on the table felt comforting—a little extra joy in every bite.

The next course brought Chiborek with chicken—yet another first for me. I turned to my partner and said, “If this is half as good as the last course, I’m going to be very happy.” And of course, it was. At first glance, the chiborek resembles a meat pie or turnover. The thin, stuffed bread, lightly fried to perfection, is dotted with little air bubbles that give it a flawless crisp—imagine the nostalgic crunch of a deep-fried apple pie, but taken to an entirely new, elevated level. While the menu describes it simply as chicken and onion pie, the reality is far more exciting: Tender chicken, melty cheese, and a generous helping of fresh dill—easily my favorite herb—come together in a warm, fragrant filling that bursts as you bite into the light & crunchy, golden pocket.

Saleh, our ever-attentive and cheerful server, appeared once again with a bright smile—carrying another tempting plate of food for us to enjoy. The Olet Samsa at Sana did not disappoint, with a playful twist on tradition and a unique folding technique. The light brushing of butter added richness, while the filling inside was delicately seasoned and vibrantly fresh. Traditionally baked in a tandoor, the Uzbek samsa has a delicate, flaky exterior—crispy on the outside while tender and soft on the inside, making it utterly addictive—a rustic bite that sets itself apart from its contemporaries.

So far, the meal had been surprisingly light and bright for an Iftar, a refreshing change from the heavy, spice-laden spreads that have left me needing a gurney in the past. Dill, fresh tomato, and clean flavors carried us effortlessly to the main course: Chicken Shashlik and Uzbek Plov.

The chicken shashlik arrived sizzling over hot coals, keeping it warm throughout the meal. Shaved onions, soaked in ice water to temper their bite, accompanied the dish, along with a fresh tomato puree reminiscent of the vibrant sauce that is served with Mandi. The chicken was juicy and marinated with indescribably delicious secret spice, instantly craveable. But the true star was the tableside served Plov: pillowy rice, tender braised lamb, and vegetables all infused with aromatic whole spices. Each grain of rice, plump and full of flavor. The lamb, slow cooked to a perfect, unctuous stickiness that can only be achieved with patience. I already know I’ll be returning for this dish—it’s a showstopper. A quick glance around the other tables confirmed our thoughts—this Plov is a must-have for anyone dining at Sana.

Dessert brought a beautifully executed Napoleon, large enough for two, with thick pastry cream. When they sweetened the deal with Tea and Saffron Nabat, we couldn’t resist. In my Persian family home, Chai Nabat is practically medicinal after a decadent meal—it was the perfect, soothing conclusion. I felt right at home.

Midway through the meal, the handsome Chef Nozim and Ruslan restaurant manager, stopped by to check in on us. It was at this point that we learned Sana had only been open for five months. If this was their “new restaurant” phase, they were nailing it with confidence, quality, generosity and precision. We came in knowing almost nothing about Uzbek cuisine, and we left converted. SANA has made lifelong fans of us—my only fear is that they’ve set the bar impossibly high for other Uzbek restaurants. Congratulations to the team; we’ll be back, and soon.

Iftar runs through the month of Ramadan with a set menu price of 285aed per person

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Mandana Shabani is a renowned chef and Food Editor of Raemona magazine. Reach out at mandana@raemona.com