BREAKING BREAD
Ajloun owes its sprawling green landscape
to the generous amount of rainfall it receives — significantly more than the rest of Jordan. It appears to be laden with natural springs, and Eisa tells me that whenever I see one, there’s bound to be a pomegranate or fig tree nearby. Most of the produce consumed here in Ajloun — the likes of tomatoes, potatoes and lemons, as well as greens such as farfahina (purslane) and mulukhiyah (jute mallow) leaves — is grown in the Jordan Valley, about an hour’s drive away. Eisa and I spend half an hour gathering
ingredients for the upcoming meal. Our first stop is a small convenience store in Rasoun, run by 70-year-old Abu Mohammed, where we stock up on salt, rice and sunflower oil. We then head to the centre of Orjan — a much larger village, with around 10,000 residents — to buy a handful of lemons and guavas from a small fruit and vegetable stall before heading back home. “In these villages of northern Jordan,
people are very friendly. When we introduce local families to hiking groups, they love to showcase Jordanian culture and to learn about others from around the world,” Eisa says, waving every few minutes from the car window to people he knows. As we drive, he points out a solitary
olive tree that dates back to Roman times. “We sometimes invite tourists to assist in picking olives — a way of helping the community,” he says. The region is celebrated for having the best olive oil in the country, he tells me, adding that his family make their own using the trees in their garden. “You should come back to Jordan again
soon,” he says. “With more time, I can show you how the olive picking and pressing process works.”
Cooking up a feast It’s late afternoon by the time we get back to the house, and Eman is waiting for us in the kitchen. Eisa’s wife of 18 years is a teacher who
92
NATIONALGEOGRAPHIC.COM/TRAVEL
specialises in psychology and cooks all the meals for the family and their guests. Today, we’re making maqluba (meaning ‘upside down’ in Arabic), a beloved Levant dish of chicken or lamb with rice and fried vegetables such as aubergine, potato and onion. First, we boil the organic chicken,
while Eman regales me with stories of her “legendary cooking”, as her husband calls it. “Feeding people makes me happy,” she says.
“My mum was the one who taught me how to cook, and then it was just a matter of learning from my mistakes.” Eman’s kitchen is small and simple, with
a barred window that looks out onto the orchard. Her antique-style wooden cupboards have handles in the shape of tiny knives, forks and spoons, and there’s a statement sky-blue spice rack in the corner, laden with Middle Eastern favourites including ginger, sumac, cumin and baharat, a blend typically made with black pepper, cardamom, cloves, cumin, nutmeg, coriander and paprika. “Baharat is the most important spice; I use
it in everything”, she tells me. “And coriander. I use it in yalanji [stuffed vine leaves], salads… everything! I grow my own coriander in spring, and I also make fig and apricot jams around now [late September], when the fruits in the garden are at their sweetest.” Eman boils the chicken in a heady stock of
cinnamon, baharat, saffron and a spoonful of mixed dried flowers. I ask her how often she cooks maqluba. “Too many times,” she says chortling, rolling her eyes. Mansaf (lamb cooked in fermented yoghurt) may be Jordan’s national dish, but maqluba is made more frequently, as chicken tends to be much cheaper than lamb. It’s also a go-to family meal on Fridays, the Islamic holy day. Palestine, Syria and Lebanon each have their own variation of maqluba, with the chicken sometimes substituted for beef or lamb. When it’s time to fry the onions, potatoes
and aubergines, Eman explains that every family takes a different approach to the
Clockwise from top: The family dine in their courtyard; olive trees in the countryside near Ajloun; maqluba, jarjeer salad, musakhan and a tomato, lettuce and cucumber salad
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68 |
Page 69 |
Page 70 |
Page 71 |
Page 72 |
Page 73 |
Page 74 |
Page 75 |
Page 76 |
Page 77 |
Page 78 |
Page 79 |
Page 80 |
Page 81 |
Page 82 |
Page 83 |
Page 84 |
Page 85 |
Page 86 |
Page 87 |
Page 88 |
Page 89 |
Page 90 |
Page 91 |
Page 92 |
Page 93 |
Page 94 |
Page 95 |
Page 96 |
Page 97 |
Page 98 |
Page 99 |
Page 100 |
Page 101 |
Page 102 |
Page 103 |
Page 104 |
Page 105 |
Page 106 |
Page 107 |
Page 108 |
Page 109 |
Page 110 |
Page 111 |
Page 112 |
Page 113 |
Page 114 |
Page 115 |
Page 116 |
Page 117 |
Page 118 |
Page 119 |
Page 120 |
Page 121 |
Page 122 |
Page 123 |
Page 124 |
Page 125 |
Page 126 |
Page 127 |
Page 128 |
Page 129 |
Page 130 |
Page 131 |
Page 132
