A kettle gurgled over an open fire in a Bedouin caravan serai
while we hit the cushions to rest our sore muscles on the sly
Sitting at the crossroads of the Middle East waiting for my tea
brewed with runic desert herbs with powers to fix any lethargy
Rooted in the starkness of this desert life was tribal hospitality
‘No traveler is turned away’, smiled our host, ‘The tea is ready’
But my introduction to Jordanian cuisine was through Hummus
Scooping off the chickpea wonder at a restaurant, quite famous
With each bite, we babbled over the tastes we had discovered
Indeed, Hashem was the mecca for local cuisine to be savored
With influences from the Mediterranean to Persia and around
The ingredients stirred up the most savant palates to be found
Ful medames, Falafel and Moutabel - new names were gobbled
with countless warm pita bread and soft labneh till we toppled
Wandering about in downtown Amman with a contented heart
We were stopped by an old man pushing his sesame bread cart
For just ¼ dinar he stuffed it kindly with feta cheese and za’atar
So that we don’t feel hungry going up the Roman amphitheater
Just when we thought we had enough for the today, we caught
a long queue outside Habibah, something sweet being sought
Künefe, a sugary cheese pastry soaked in orange blossom syrup
was ordered double to ensure no sharing dilemmas bubbled up
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