Finding Jordan’s Soul Through the Quiet Luxury of Cardamom Coffee and Ancestral Kitchens

Jordan announced itself before I had even set foot on its soil.

Settled into my seat aboard a Royal Jordanian flight bound for the capital city, Amman, I watched a flight attendant move gracefully through the cabin in a beautifully embroidered black kaftan, carrying a gleaming silver dallah (a traditional coffee pot). Pausing beside each passenger, she poured Arabic coffee into finjan cups—tiny, handleless vessels holding no more than a few sips.

As I cradled the ceramic cup between my fingers and lifted it to my lips, I realized I was being welcomed with something far more than a warm brew. While the coffee was aromatic and lightly spiced, the gesture felt meaningful and ceremonial.

Though I had yet to wander the bustling streets of Amman, marvel at Petra’s rose-tinted facades carved into sandstone cliffs, or cross the cinematic desert landscapes of Wadi Rum, I had already received my first lesson in Jordanian culture: never decline a cup of coffee.

What Awaits on a Jordanian Breakfast Table

Few things excite me more when traveling than discovering what awaits at the breakfast buffet. After all, a well-curated morning spread can serve as the perfect introduction to a destination. It offers a glimpse into the ingredients locals rely on, the flavors they cherish, and the dishes that shape everyday life.

At Brasserie Oasis in Crowne Plaza Amman, where I was staying, breakfast unfolded across multiple counters. Bowls of Fattoush and Salata Baladia, a country-style salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, sat alongside creamy hummus and hummus msabbaha, a rustic variation layered with warm whole chickpeas, tahini and lemon. There was labneh, the region’s tangy strained yogurt drizzled with olive oil; mutabbal, a silky roasted eggplant dip perfumed with smoke and garlic; and foul medames, a stew of fava beans brightened with cumin and lemon.

Nearby were baskets of warm pita bread, freshly fried falafel, local cheeses, olives in every variety, pickled vegetables, dates and seasonal fruit. And, of course, there were bowls of za’atar—a versatile herbs and sesame, typically mixed with olive oil and enjoyed with bread.

Amid the abundance, it was one humble pairing that kept calling me back: strong Arabic coffee and a slice of rich, nutty halwah. Known all over the Middle East as halva or halwah, the confection is typically made from tahini and sugar. In Jordan, it is often prepared with soapwort (erq al-halaweh) or egg whites, lending it a slightly fibrous consistency. More than a sweet treat, it reflects the importance of sesame in Jordanian cuisine, an ingredient that appears in everything from breakfast dips to celebratory desserts.

(Shikha Shah)

The Taste and Hum of Daily Life at a Local Bakery

One afternoon, a recommendation from our driver, Ajouni led us to Eman Bakery in Amman.

The bakery hummed with activity when we arrived – locals streaming in and out carrying bags filled with baked goods, office workers queued up for a quick snack, and regulars exchanging greetings with staff as they collected their orders. Inside, wooden baskets and display cases brimmed with temptation: pastries filled with cheese, za’atar and spinach, miniature pizzas, warm flatbreads fresh from the oven, and rows of cookies and sweets. Following the lead of those around us, we slipped on disposable gloves and filled a bag with whatever caught our eye.

Among the highlights were golden rings of ka’ak coated in toasted sesame seeds, melt-in-the-mouth ghraybeh (Middle Eastern shortbread biscuits), crisp barazek cookies studded with pistachios and sesame, and jewel-like squares of baklava glistening beneath the display lights. Embracing our curiosity, the staff eagerly pointed us towards their favorites and explained the treats we had never encountered before.

It was immediately clear that Eman wasn’t one of those Instagram-famous spots chasing the latest culinary trend. Instead, it was a place woven into the fabric of the neighborhood, where locals stopped by for their daily bread or a sense of familiarity.

An Authentic Luncheon Seasoned with History

Located about 30 kilometres southwest of Amman, Madaba is best known for its extraordinary Byzantine mosaics, including the sixth-century Madaba Map, the oldest surviving cartographic depiction of the Holy Land. Like many, we arrived here to explore its churches and archaeological treasures, but also with an appetite for good food.

Our lunch stop was Adonis Restaurant, housed in a beautifully restored ancestral stone home tucked away on a quiet street. As the affable owner gave us a house tour, I found myself appreciating its handcrafted wooden furniture, striped carpets, potted plants and vintage lanterns that lent the space a timeless, lived-in charm. From the terrace, views stretched across Madaba’s rooftops and church towers.

Yet the restaurant’s most intriguing feature lay beneath our feet: a historic tunnel connected to the property that branches towards some of the city’s most significant religious landmarks, including St. John’s Church. Before a single dish arrived, the setting had already become part of the experience.

(Shikha Shah)

Lunch opened in the generous fashion Jordanians do best. Bowls of silky hummus, freshly made fattoush, eggplant stewed in tomato sauce, spiced sambusas filled with minced meat, pickled vegetables and warm flatbreads quickly crowded the table. Platters of expertly grilled meats followed, accompanied by mint-infused lemonade and freshly squeezed orange juice.

There were no elaborate presentations or attempts to go fusion. Instead, each plate celebrated local ingredients and time-honored recipes, prepared with the confidence that comes from generations of practice.

By the time Arabic coffee and squares of syrup-soaked basbousa (moist, syrup-soaked semolina cake) arrived, nobody could claim to be hungry. Yet somehow, everyone found room for dessert.

The Joy of Sharing Jordan’s National Dish

Our guide, Abdallah Mortada, often remarked that meals in Jordan are far more than a means of satisfying hunger—they are occasions of togetherness. Coming from India, where food plays a similarly social role, the sentiment felt relatable. Yet it wasn’t until we gathered around a giant platter of mansaf at Al Baraka Café & Restaurant in Wadi Musa’s The Old Village Resort that I truly understood how central communal dining is to Jordanian life.

As had become customary throughout the trip, the meal began with mezze. Then came the centerpiece: a platter so enormous it seemed designed for a gathering twice our size. As someone with a modest appetite, I found the sheer scale of the dish slightly intimidating.

(Shikha Shah)

Tender lamb rested on a bed of golden, subtly-spiced rice and shrak (paper-thin, large Bedouin flatbread), crowned with a scattering of almonds. Alongside sat a bowl of jameed, a rich, tangy sauce that gives mansaf its distinctive character. Made from fermented goat’s or sheep’s milk yoghurt that is dried into hard stones before being rehydrated, jameed is simmered with lamb broth and poured over the rice and meat. No single element dominates; instead, each component complements the others.

“Mansaf is reserved for family gatherings, weddings, special occasions, and honored guests,” our server explained. “Traditionally, it is eaten by hand. Diners gather around the tray, using only their right hand to shape rice, meat and jameed into bite-sized morsels,” he added.

Locals insist that mansaf is best followed by a nap. Faced with the towering platter before us, it was hard to argue with their wisdom. Yet with Petra’s ancient wonders still waiting to be explored, we found just enough motivation to leave the table, shake off our food-induced lethargy, and continue the adventure.

An Invitation into Bedouin Life

Our first meaningful encounter with Bedouin life came on the road to Wadi Rum, Jordan’s sprawling protected desert wilderness, when Mortada proposed a visit to the home of Yousef Al Marahia.

Only after stepping inside did we realize we were there for more than coffee. Lunch was already underway. In the kitchen, Yousef’s wife was preparing maqluba, a staple of Jordanian home cooking. “The name maqluba translates as ‘upside down’ in Arabic, a nod to both its preparation and its theatrical finish. Meat is arranged at the bottom of a deep pot, layered with vegetables such as aubergine, cauliflower and potatoes, then topped with rice scented with warm spices before everything is left to cook together.” Explained Mortada. Long favored by Bedouin communities across the deserts of the Levant and Sinai, it was perfectly suited to nomadic life: nourishing, adaptable and cooked in a single vessel using whatever ingredients were available. References to similar layered rice dishes appear in Kitāb al-Ṭabīkh, a 13th-century Abbasid cookbook, a reminder that its roots stretch back centuries.

As the one-pot wonder neared completion, we gathered in the kitchen for its defining moment. Phones were out as Yousef’s wife placed a serving platter over the pot and flipped it confidently in one swift motion, unveiling a perfectly cooked mound of rice, vegetables and meat. Steam carrying notes of cinnamon, turmeric and spices filled the room.

(Shikha Shah)

Soon, we settled onto floor cushions in the family’s dining room, where we dug into the rich rice preparation alongside tahini salad and cool laban (plain yogurt). The linguistic gaps were bridged as interaction took the form of gestures and translated snippets, with our Mortada happily stepping in as interpreter whenever needed.

As we said our goodbyes to Yousef, it was not the food we carried with us, but the pride he took in sharing his life with us and the rare feeling of being completely at home in a stranger’s abode.

Barbecue of the Nomads

Few dishes capture the spirit of Bedouin life quite like zarb - a centuries-old barbecue tradition that has nourished desert communities across southern Jordan through the ages.

After Wadi Rum’s otherworldly sunset had painted the sandstone mountains in shades of crimson and gold, we returned to camp to find guests gathered outside the main dining tent. A sense of anticipation hung in the air as a group of men began brushing away a patch of sand. Hidden beneath was dinner.

Developed by pastoral tribes who needed to cook efficiently in harsh desert conditions, zarb relies on a basic technique. Meat and vegetables are arranged on tiered metal racks and lowered into an underground pit heated by glowing embers. The chamber is sealed tightly beneath a metal lid and covered with sand, allowing the contents to cook slowly for hours, protected from the wind while requiring minimal fuel.

When the cover was finally lifted, and trays of lamb, chicken, potatoes, carrots and onions pulled out from beneath the earth, fragrant smoke billowed into the cool desert air. Served with rice, salads, and warm bread, the meal was rustic and light. There were no spicy sauces or elaborate seasonings to distract from the flavors, letting the high-quality ingredients and the method take center stage.

(Shikha Shah)

Finding Comfort in Kunafa

By the time we reached Aqaba, news of escalating tensions involving Iran, Israel and the United States had begun to dominate conversations. During a boat trip on the Red Sea, sirens periodically echoed across the country whenever there was a perceived threat overhead. For those of us visiting, the uncertainty was unsettling.

What struck me, however, was the calmness of the Jordanians around us. “We’ll find a way through and get everyone home,” Mortada said, his gentle smile rarely fading. Even though the cancellation of his upcoming tours would affect his livelihood for weeks, perhaps months, he spoke with composure.

When we returned to Amman, the uncertainty became personal. News arrived that our flight home had been canceled following regional airspace closures. Anxiety rippled through our group, with some fellow travelers fighting back tears as contingency plans were discussed.

That’s when Mortada surprised us with a visit to Habibah Sweets, the family-run institution famous for its kunafa - Jordan’s beloved dessert; a delicate balance of crisp golden pastry, soft cheese and fragrant syrup. Without much fanfare, Mortada returned carrying a hearty portion for each of us. As we unwrapped the warm and fresh kunafa and took our first bites, the tension began to melt away. Smiles returned, and for a brief moment, hospitality triumphed over uncertainty.

Looking back, that afternoon captured everything I came to admire about Jordan. Too often, the country is viewed through the lens of regional conflict, its own story overshadowed by events beyond its borders. However, beyond the geopolitical headlines lies a nation defined by warmth, resilience, and a deeply-rooted culinary tapestry - one that cannot truly be understood from afar, but must be experienced firsthand.

(Shikha Shah)

What You Need to Know About Bedouin Coffee Culture

In Bedouin tradition, serving coffee is a symbolic ritual and may include up to three cups.

The first cup (Al-Heif) is the host’s way to signal welcome and reassurance that the guest is safe and honored.

The second cup (Al-Keif) is shared in ease and conversation.

The third cup (Al-Seif), also known as the Sword Cup, symbolizes trust, loyalty, and a bond that goes beyond formality into kinship. By accepting it, the guest affirms a commitment to stand by the host through times of hardship.

Bedouin Coffee Etiquette : Quick Tips

• Accept at least the first cup when offered; it is considered a basic sign of respect.
• Always take and drink coffee with your right hand.
• Do not place the cup on the ground, as this can be interpreted as a request or signal for attention.
• If you do not want more coffee, gently tilt or wiggle the empty cup when returning it to your host. Otherwise, it will likely be refilled.

Edible Souvenirs to Bring Back from Jordan

• Halwah
  A staple in Jordanian homes and bakeries, enjoyed with tea or coffee throughout the day. Available in varieties such as pistachio, chocolate, nuts and black sesame.
• Za’atar & Sumac
  Za’atar is a fragrant blend of herbs, sesame and spices. Sumac is a deep red spice made from dried berries, known for its tangy, lemon-like flavor that adds brightness to salads, meats and dips.
• Jordanian Coffee
  Freshly ground Arabic coffee, often infused with cardamom. With the help of a local, visit small spice shops in the souks, where a range of beans is ground right in front of you, turning the experience into something far more than just a purchase.
• Cheese-Stuffed Olives and Olive Oil
  Flavorful, king-size Jordanian olives often come stuffed with cheese or preserved in high-quality local olive oil.
• Medjool Dates
  Large, soft, and naturally sweet, Medjool dates are widely regarded as one of Jordan’s most prized agricultural products and a popular edible gift to bring home for loved ones.