Meats & Sweets

The Earth is a beautiful blue marble full of eye-catching wonders and vast sceneries which, like clay in Mother Nature’s hands have been warped, stretched and compressed over billions of years. The scale of this infinitely complex world will never cease to amaze but not everything that is wholesome or beautiful about this world comes fully formed and ready to inspire. Without us, the egotistical hairless apes, the raw ingredients of the Earth would never have been experimented with, tamed, cooked, seared, smothered in sauce or crafted into whatever Marmite is. In these food and drink posts, I have written about the dangerously underrated and unknown Bishkek food scene and created a local’s take on what the Stonehenge-adjacent Salisbury has to offer. It’s only right we now turn our attention to the Middle East, after 8 months living in Amman, Jordan’s culinary labyrinth has revealed its secrets to me one meal at a time and despite living and cooking with *holds back slowly rising bile* a vegan, I did try every single thing (meaty or otherwise) that I could get my greedy hands on. 

Knafeh – A Struggle for Sweet Supremacy

What substance can make your increasingly tangential dreams, aspirations and goals suddenly melt away, leaving you with only one singular purpose? What allows the background noise of life to diffuse into the ether leaving only numbed clarity; allowing you to slump back into the warm embrace of contented indifference? You might be worried that I’m describing my first heroin-induced fever dream, but no, that’s an entirely different post. Instead, I’m talking about knafeh and the wondrous soul-enriching experience of your first bite.

Knafeh is a traditional Middle Eastern dessert which has lots of different forms but the most famous originates from Palestine in the city of Nablus. Imagine, if you will, cheese. That shouldn’t be too much to ask of you at this stage. This very specific cheese is of the melty, stringy variety and lies as a slightly salted foundation from which the rest of the sweet proceedings are built on. In fact, at this stage you have a choice. On top of the cheese is a type of dough which you can order in two different textures. The first one is na’ameh which means soft and the other is khishneh which means rough. The na’ameh varies between soft and contradictorily crunchy, the dough itself is almost impossible to describe but imagine a buttery semolina flour crumble and you’re halfway there. The khishneh is usually much crunchier and is made from layers of thin crunchy strands of dough. Once you’ve chosen to order both anyway, the knafeh gets the final shove towards perfection, a healthy lathering of thin syrup and crushed nuts.

So, you might be thinking that the hot, sweet, dairy motherlode that is knafeh doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, BUT YOU’RE WRONG. I would say that unless you have serious problems digesting lactose you need to try it. Actually, even if having a sip of Cravendale is a one way ticket to death’s door, I can’t think of a much better way to die. Once you’ve made the decision to sign away your life for a dessert, where will you find it? Well that might actually be the best part of this whole thing. As a man who strongly dislikes inconvenience and people (among many other things) but who deeply enjoys desserts, I want to get my food and be left alone. In Amman in particular, you can find a knafeh place within walking distance anywhere in the city and while they often sell other little sweets, everyone is there for the knafeh. When you arrive you say how much you want in grams, kilograms or metric tonnes (only half joking) and then within seconds you’ve got it. It doesn’t sound all that special but if you imagine that setup in the UK, where as you wander the rainy streets of London you could get a fresh hot serving of crumble and custard on every street, you may be able to grasp my excitement.

And thus my acceptable addiction began. However, with my eating obsession also came my divine calling. The search for the best of the best. My search took me all around the city but after much deliberation and much lactose-induced digestive turmoil here are my top knafeh shops in Amman. Now of course this is only my opinion so, you’re welcome to dispute these, but I warn you that nothing matters to me as much as being right or eating the best food, so this list is practically the knafeh gospel:

1. Habibah – In Jordan every recommendation for a place to visit (whether it be for food or for adventure) is almost useless. Habibah is the exception to the rule. Famed as the best knafeh place in the city, it turns out after painstaking artery-clogging research that the internet is correct. The na’ameh especially is a masterpiece, at the top of the dough it is crunchy but just beneath those caramelised morsels the dough melts towards the cheese which is slightly salted and the perfect texture. The Khishneh is slightly more temperamental but always sits solidly within the top three. But the thing that sets it apart from other establishments is the soft syrupy layer between the amazingly crispy dough and the cheese. 
2. Aghati – The na’ameh is fairly mediocre but the khishneh is a slightly sweeter and crunchier gift to humanity. The first time I ate a small tray from here I watched the torrential rain of an Ammani winter and felt a deeply spiritual contentment. Getting fat is my meditation.
3. Nafeesa – Lots of nuts on top and a crunchy Khishneh. Done deal.

Rice and All Things Nice

Jordan (the country) and Tam (the plucky Australian coffee addict) are both 90% fuelled by the timeless marriage of rice and meat. Aiming for such impressive stats, I followed their lead and the first port of call was the Mandi shop. A Yemeni dish of spiced rice with meat on top, I mentioned how socially acceptable it is to eat an entire tray of the stuff to yourself in my history dissertation on Rome and the Decapolis here. It’s cheap and tasty, nothing to call home about but a quick and easy staple.

Other than mandi you can have mansaf, the national dish of Jordan. It isn’t delicately spiced or complicated, in fact its simplicity is charming. However, as much as I wish this was simply me putting a dish of unseasoned rice and meat onto a blog that is renowned for its food snobbery, mansaf does have a little secret by the name of jameed. This is a hardened ball of salted sheep’s yogurt which is dried all the way through. This jameed is then made into a broth of thin hot yogurty stuff and then poured all over your rice and slow cooked lamb. Wow, I did not make that sound appetising but trust me there’s nothing else you’d want on your rice and meat more than thin salty goat yogurt. This is all served with shrak (a super thin stretchy flatbread not to be confused with the plump green ogre with a distaste for magical creatures in his swamp). This combination means that the dish is incredibly simple and much more tasty than it has any right to be. However, be warned, this is only true for homemade Mansaf so make yourself some Jordanian friends ASAP (I have Ahmed to thank for my homemade mansaf). Coincidentally, this magical addition of jameed, is essentially same as the chalky, cloying salty ball of malevolence that Brendan and I were given to eat raw in a shared taxi in Tajikistan. Maybe I need to make the trip back to the mountainous beauty of Central Asia to tell them you’re supposed to whack it in some water first.

Maqlouba was the final level up, the showstopper. A carefully layered rice dish with assorted vegetables and meat, which is crafted in a large pot and then flipped over onto a dish to serve. However, the magic of the maqlouba was tainted by my position penned into a sickeningly meatless reality, so our homemade maqlouba lacked any hint of something that went “Cluck”, “Baa” or even a pitiful “Moo” within the layers. Instead, cauliflower, aubergine and tomatoes reigned supreme. It was still delicious but in the same way that morphine at the dentist’s is lovely, it’s a momentary respite from the real world of your issues. But as the fog clears, you’re left unshrouded, you can see that you’ve been missing something. Whether it’s half your teeth or the taste of animal flesh after a vegetarian “meal”, it’s an unhappy kick into the real world. 

Bready, Steady, Cook

Full lockdown. Coronavirus (and armed personnel) had driven people into their homes for days on end but soon the freedom to leave your house came and where did people rush to first? The bakeries. Without bread, there would be no Jordan. Every bakery in the city (lockdown or no lockdown) always has people inside and you regularly see people wielding a carrier bag full of stacked pita breads in each hand. Almost everything in Jordanian cuisine requires bread as the sole food delivery system to the mouth, so throw all notions of a knife and fork away and follow the smell of bread. 

Manakish is the first and most important bready thing you can get in Jordan. Previously mentioned in my Jordan trail post, manakish is like a pizza but topped with non-pizza items. My favourite was the classic za’atar and cheese combo. In this masterpiece you get one side of the fresh and scolding hot bread covered in olive oil and herb mix, on the other side you get soft salty white cheese. Fold that in half and shove it in your face. Heaven. If you’re looking for something a little more sophisticated then the manakish at a Lebanese place next to the Jordan University is the way forward. They roll/fold it up for you and the toppings are a level above anywhere else in the city. There’s a spicy meat number which drips grease all down your arm but the succulent and spicy meat blocks all inhibitions. The cheesy manakish will make you look in the mirror later that day and say, “Jesus, I am a melting wheelie bin of a man,” but it’s worth it. Life-altering fast food. 

The other bready dish you can get around the city is musakhan. Another big ol’ flat bread but this time you’re not spoiled for choice because there is only one. This bread is covered in onions cooked in sumac until soft and then topped with a quarter, half or whole chicken. The more chicken you get, the more bread you get and the fun never stops. The bread is crispy on the outside and the onions are citrusy thanks to the sumac, then the roasted chicken is plonked on top with a scattering of toasted almonds. A whole chicken, four breads and eight chicken mini rolls was about £8. 

Falafel Sandwiches – A Deep Fried Duel

A Jordanian breakfast is a wonderful thing. It’s an barrage of choices. Hummus, falafel, muttabal, Mfarakeh and foul (to name but a few) all served with complimentary bread which is often fresh. Now, this set up really can’t be argued with, however, when you’re a late riser and chronically friendless, a solitary breakfast trip is usually off the cards. Instead, I would frequent the falafel shop for another purpose, the sandwich. The falafel shops often don’t even have seating areas, they are solely for people to buy sandwiches or to bring their bowls from home to get them filled with proper fresh hummus. These establishments are even more widely seen than knafeh shops and their relative qualities are equally debated. My favourite falafel haunt was Safiruna. This place is located only a deep valley away from the touristy areas, but remains resolutely local. The people are friendly, it is always busy and always amazing. In a subwayesque pick your own adventure style, Safiruna is set up for even the most picky eater but I would skip the formalities and chuck everything in there (roughly four falafel, hummus, tomato and cucumber salad, chips, rocket and chilli sauce). Eating this solid baton of deliciousness was a blissful undertaking and after two you would be pretty stuffed and only set back about 85p.

Note: Do not trust the internet like you trusted their knafeh recommendation. In all the collective wisdom of the travelling world Al-Quds Falafel was recommended on almost every blog or website I read. This place produces undoubtedly the worst falafel sandwich I had in Jordan in eight months of eating a falafel sandwich almost everyday. Have some self respect, go to Safiruna. 

Now that we’ve covered the best falafel sandwich close to the centre, we move to the poshest and most beautifully crafted sandwich in the city of Amman and indeed the entire country, Abu Jbara. Softer bread, better tasting falafel and the stroke of genius that was the addition of mint leaves and small slices of lemon into the sandwich. It is the perfect falafel sandwich. But, its smaller size and slightly higher price just dips it below Safiruna in my books. Abu Jbara is a night in a hotel but Safiruna is night in your own bed.  

The Meat Tornado

Shawarma is loved to the same extent as the falafel sandwich but lacks any of the complexity. Here the focus is on the meat. Unlike the Doner Kebab, which you’ll be familiar with from a greasy post night out excursion to destroy whatever self-worth you have left, the shawarma of Jordan is a simple wrap of meat and sauce. You don’t need two hands to eat it or to be stumbling around a city centre at 4am craving nondescript meat, in fact the shawarma is just another fast food meal, it’s a posh kebab. On the colloquially named “Hungry Street” is a concentration of fast food places, shawarma reigning supreme among them. My favourite is Al-Mousali who’s beef shawarma is an intensely meaty affair while the chicken shawarma is filled with tender but golden chicken smothered in a garlicky sauce. It’ll make you say, “I’m glad I’m chronically alone so that no one has to kiss me after this,” followed by a pitiful laugh, quiet sobbing and then comfort eating half a kilo of knafeh from the Habibah just down the road. Living the dream! The other notable establishment from which to procure a concentrated funnel of meaty goodness is Shawarma Reem. Located on Second Circle (kinda near downtown), they do a cracking beef shawarma with the master stroke of raw onion. Another score for the bad breath brigade. 

The Candyman Can

When you’ve decided not to have knafeh for whatever ridiculous excuse you’ve concocted in your dumb head, there are other sweets to try. Baklava is the most famous and for good reason. Who doesn’t want layers of crispy filo pastry and finely chopped nuts held together by syrup? Only insane people… or people who are concerned with the upkeep of their cardiovascular system… otherwise known as insufferable showoffs. We get it, you’re going to live to a frighteningly old age, but are you going to enjoy getting there without the wonders of baklava? I don’t think so. You can find baklava in every store or knafeh shop across the land but just get them in Habibah, it’ll save you time trying to find somewhere else and I can attest to their quality. 

Mahmoul is next. Have you tried a fig roll? Yes? It’s just like that but swap the fig mush out for date mush. Ok are we done? No? Jesus, how have you gone through life without trying a fig roll? Reconsider your life choices. Ok, it’s pastry or dough around a date paste and it’s delicious and full of energy. If you’re going hiking bring them along side your trusty hiking watermelon (see this post for details). The best mahmoul are freshly cooked for Eid, so once again, get yourself a Jordanian friend or one better, a Jordanian family.  

Finally, I can’t leave this section on sweet things without mentioning Feyrouz. My favourite non-knafeh sweet shop, Feyrouz is a patisserie in the Weibdeh district which is where all the good looking, rich expats live and so naturally it’s full of coffee shops, foreign cuisines and a few bars. Weibdeh has a really nice relaxed vibe and it’s somewhere I would wholeheartedly recommend, but for now we must go back to Feyrouz. I first found out about the place thanks to Sara, the New Yorker I duped into going on dates with me by utilising the sneaky tactic of having a British accent. She showed me Feyrouz and their wide selection of cakey things. The top two items I tried were the miniature apple pies which were delightful on every encounter and the crunchy on the outside sticky on the inside coconut blobs of joy (not their official name). However, unlike knafeh I am not the authority on this subject and so I will also mention that Sara’s favourite was the Mille-feuille, while Eliza enjoyed the chocolatey moussey biscoff cylinders. 

Xenophilia

Despite all of the amazing foods mentioned above, Jordanian cuisine can start to weigh upon you. And much like in Central Asia it starts to feel like you’re being focussed toward a often greasy culinary goal by the blinkers of inadequate choice. But soon the wonders of Weibdeh and Jabal Amman revealed themselves to me. These small areas of Amman are walkable from the downtown which makes them the perfect places to grab foreign food because on almost every occasion contending with Amman’s awful traffic is an uninviting prospect. So here numbers one and two will be my favourite places to escape to foreign lands all within walking distance. And then number three will mention my favourite excuse to ignore everything I just said about traffic and make the trip to an almost holy place:

1. Oliva – A tiny pizzeria on a quiet corner in Weibdeh, this is a quaint Italian restaurant with simple tiled walls and hanging plants and is the best place to grab a pizza in Amman. At night the small lights come on and the seating spills out of the green patio doors and onto the street making the atmosphere that of an authentic small European eatery. The food is isn’t the best Italian food I’ve had abroad but when you’re in competition with the likes of 4Ps in Hanoi then you can’t be mad. It’s honest, reasonably priced, good food. 
2. Copas Central – Spanish food, need I say more? It’s a bit pricey but if you’ve got dosh to burn and a nasty sangria habit to fuel then this is the place for you. The tapas is tasty and the paella was surprisingly good, but Copas is mainly about the atmosphere. It has an open and plant filled patio area combined with a dimly lit but well designed interior that sets the scene for good conversation.
3. Malabari – When I’m travelling I always make a habit of eating local food at any opportunity because I am an unpicky food hoover that enjoys any cuisine. However, sometimes you just want to recline into the comfort of foods you know and love. This means Indian food for me. In Asia, I found a fair few quality establishments with little effort but it took months to find Malabari. Previously Firas and I had been to Biryani which sits in an alleyway of downtown. It served good food but not quite good enough to push me toward loyalty. Instead, we went hunting and found this restaurant which is almost opposite the amazing Lebanese manakish place by the Jordan University. My Arabic was finally good enough by this point to order my own food and drink, and when we first tried the food it was a revelation to us all. We were all very impressed by the standard of the food and the prices, so naturally we left the restaurant disgustingly full. But as we all know, this means nothing where puddings are concerned. So, we waddled to the car and headed to Gerard’s ice cream shop in Abdoun (which is a true ice cream lover’s heaven). In fact, this Gerard’s is probably the best ice cream/sorbet place in Amman but for Arab ice cream Bekdash is the one. Arab ice cream is more elastic and less sweet than its western cousin. It’s slightly flavoured with rose water and when you order it it is chopped (not scooped) from its holster. Is holster the correct word? I know it’s not but I can’t for the life of me think of what the ice cream bucket is called. Anyway, after being liberated from the ice cream holster it is rolled in pistachios and Bob’s your uncle, a refreshingly simple treat.

Counterbalancing Your Sugar Addiction

So far it seems that Jordan isn’t exactly a paragon of healthy living. However, if you resist the cheap allures of fast food, and instead buy your own ingredients, you may be able to look at yourself in the mirror without sighing. Jordan’s markets are a haven for lovers of good, tasty, local ingredients. Al-Wehdat is my favourite and is located in the southeast of the city. It’s a refugee camp area so it’s relatively poor but the market there is the best place to grab just about anything on the cheap. Are you looking for napkins? Well, you can get a whole bin liner full of them just as long as you don’t mind about a hotel’s logo being on them. Do you want totally real £400 pair of Nike shoes for only £20? Al-Wehdat has it. The food market is the best bit though. Unlike the Green Bazaar in Kazakhstan where the food labyrinth was contained within a large building, Al-Wehdat market had no containment, no safety net, only the narrow alleyways leading to god knows where. Tarpaulins covered some sections while others were housed in a building that was somehow both concrete and unnervingly rickety. This construction (because calling it a building is a stretch) had no sides and was severely lacking in structural integrity where I thought it mattered i.e. the support columns. The roof was blackened by either mould or soot and the space to move was minimal (this all contributed to the perfect breeding ground for any old disease never mind a pandemic). If you can’t be bothered to go to the market (which is an experience you really shouldn’t miss) then luckily the market comes to you in Amman. Men in small vans drive around the city playing their voices out over the megaphone saying the prices for their produce on that day. They’re noisy and mostly incomprehensible but very convenient. Finally, you can just pick up whatever is ready at that time of the year on the road side. Just swerve you car through multiple lanes of traffic with no warning or regard for your own life (like a real Jordanian) and then pull over to ask how much the watermelons, figs, pumpkins, grapes, mangos, pomegranates or prickly pears are. Yes, you read that correctly. Prickly pears. I always knew the Jungle Book had to be a real, completely accurate story. This is the piece of evidence that I needed to prove my therapist wrong. Now who’s imagining that they live in the make-believe Disney animated world of the Jungle Book to escape their problems?! You can forget about getting me sectioned now, Dr Johnson! Prickly pears are actually pretty gross though so I wouldn’t waste your time. In fact, my opinion of Baloo has been drastically diminished by this fact. Through the frantic fruit and veg buying action that we engaged in every week, my market Arabic came on very nicely. So, if you’re ever in Jordan and need to ask a guy at the market, “How much are those tomatoes?”, I am your guy. 

Final Bites

It has been a long time since my last food post. Some of you may be thankful for this hiatus and others may have thought that I had changed, that I didn’t care to impose my strong food-based opinions on other people anymore. Those people would be wrong. Amman’s food scene is not the most refined, nor the most diverse but in a way it reminded me of home. Jordanian cuisine is about family, tradition and unrefined uncomplicated flavour. Comfort food will always have its place, whether it is a Steak and Ale Pie at the pub or a falafel breakfast feast with a group of mates; style and grace take a side seat. Refinement can do a runner. We are here to eat. And eat we shall.