Weekend Getaway to Madaba and Hot Springs

 Our noble steed -- the rental car that would take us on our journey.  Notice our friend James' shirt (go Bears!)

 Soledad bravely volunteers to drive out of Amman

 we stopped on the way to take some pictures by the Dead Sea

 At the extremely hot springs!  Again Soledad proves her bravery -- I did one 2-second dunk and I was done!

 Lounging in the shade is more my style.  By the way, they aren't sunburned -- the redness is from the water.

 Madaba -- The church of John the Baptist

 Right before you-know-what happens to him :(

 On top of the bell tower after a nerve-wracking climb!

 Pretty sure this is his real head.

 Entering St. George's Church -- on the floor is an ancient mosaic map of the holy land

Right before getting yelled at for our abhorrent PDA


Here are some pics Soledad took on her far superior camera

Maqlouba!

Alternately called ma'louba or maglouba, depending on accent (Lebanese, Palestinian, and Syrian people typically pronounce a "q" as a glottal stop, which to many English speakers makes it sound basically invisible, as if the speaker were very briefly interrupted mid-word and then immediately picked up where they left off.  Men in Amman, however, despite being mostly Palestinian in origin, think the glottal stop sounds effeminate, so they pronounce it as a hard "g".  This is also true of men and women in Northern Jordan, but women in Amman prefer the daintier glottal stop.  I'm pretty sure that Bedouins mostly choose the "g" sound, making it arguably the more indigenously Jordanian pronunciation.  Sorry about all this), this chicken and rice dish is the national dish of Palestine, and therefore a kind of honorary national dish of Jordan.  Literally the name means "upside-down," and you'll see why.  

You all know I'm a total language nerd, so without getting too technical I just can't resist pointing out that Arabic words are comprised of different combinations of 3 root letters, arranged in different patterns for different meanings and parts of speech.  It's probably the most perfectly logical language in the world, and sometimes seems more like mathematics than language.  Anyway, a simple past participle (had, written, eaten, etc.) is formed by placing the root letters in the pattern ma_ _ou_.  The root letters q-l-b mean to flip, turn, reverse, or overturn ("qelb" means "heart," because your feelings are always flipping and turning!).  Put them in the pattern and you get maqloub -- flipped, overturned.  The "a" on the end just makes it feminine (adjectives are gendered in Arabic, as in most languages).  I'm guessing it's feminine in order to agree with the word for "meal" which is feminine, but I'm really not sure.

I've had the honor of being served home-cooked maqlouba on 3 occasions, and it's been amazing every time.  For that reason I've been intimidated to try it myself, fearing that I could never live up to the local experts.  Obviously I can't, but to my surprise and delight it was actually very easy to make, despite being very impressive-looking when finished.  Give it a try and see for yourself!

 This is what it looks like before being flipped.

Yalla!
step 1: Brown a small head of broken-up cauliflower in some olive oil or veggie oil.  It doesn't have to be cooked through, just get some color on the outside.  Put on paper towel to drain and set aside.

step 2: Rinse 1 cup or more of rice well and put in a bowl (I made this dish for just 2 people, so I used 1 cup rice and about half a head of cauliflower, but adjust as you need).  Cover rice with boiling water and let soak for 10 minutes, then drain.

step 3:  In a deep saute pan or pot, soften one chopped onion in oil.  When soft, add pieces of chicken on the bone and brown on all sides.  I used 2 breasts cut into 5 pieces, but any pieces will do.  Season with a little salt and pepper, and if you want anything else.  Literally, I don't think you could go wrong.  A lot of people use a little cinnamon and nutmeg or allspice or even ginger, some people use nothing, and I've heard of some people using curry powder.  Don't overdo it, whatever you do, there will be plenty of flavor.

step 4: When chicken is browned (it will still be raw inside, no worries), cover it in boiling water from the kettle, bring to boil again, turn heat down to simmer, and cover.  Let simmer for 10 minutes, or a little longer if the pieces are big.

step 5: In a deep pot, layer the chicken pieces on the bottom (remove carefully from the broth but DO NOT throw the broth away!), fit together as nicely as possible, then top with cauliflower.  Finally, pour the drained rice on top and smooth it with a spoon.  Now, pour the appropriate amount of broth in to cook the rice.  I always use the 1c rice to 1.25c water ratio (with pre-soaked rice) and it works perfectly.  As you can see I kinda just scooped the onions in on top.

step 6: Bring to boil (because it's packed so tightly it will blub and glub more than bubble), reduce heat to low, and cover.  Cook without peeking for 20 minutes.  Then uncover and check for doneness by tasting a bit of the rice on top.  If it's fully cooked and nicely fluffy (not still wet), then you're done!  For me this was 20 minutes exactly.

step 7:  The fun part!  Cover with a large plate or platter and CAREFULLY flip the whole thing upside down, then slowly lift off the pot.  If everything went according to plan, it should hold its shape like so:

 Then you can mess it up and serve!  Serve with thick plain yogurt (necessary) and toasted almonds or cilantro (if you want).  Yum yum yum :)

Ta3am Kooree/ Corean Food

As you all know, one of the things Abe and I complain about the most in Amman is the lack of cuisine from the rest of the world.  From around the Middle East there is an abundance of variety: Lebanese, Syrian, Iraqi, Yemeni, etc.  Then there are the "American" options: KFC, McDonald's, TGIFridays, etc.  And that is all.  Or so we thought.

Last night humbled us and proved that there is a lot more to Amman than is visible on the surface.  It also reinforced the idea that connections truly are everything ("wasta" in Arabic, which people snarkily and resentfully refer to as "vitamin w").  We got together with a small group of friends and went to one of Amman's underground Corean restaurants, led by our friend who is a Corean diplomat.  Apparently it was called "Egg Hotel," but there were absolutely no signs or markings to confirm that.  After leading a cab driver on what seemed to be a wild goose chase ("are you sure there's a restaurant out here?"), we stopped in a dirt parking lot on a back road of some isolated residential neighborhood.  No businesses of any kind were in evidence.  Trusting our friend, though privately thinking she must have her addresses mixed up, we walk into a regular apartment building and go downstairs to the basement apartment.  Surprise surprise, the apartment's living room is filled with tables and chairs, a few of which are occupied by Corean families.  THEY ARE DRINKING WINE.  Amazing smells of Corean cooking waft out of the personal-sized kitchen.  I feel like I've just entered a speakeasy, except the prohibited item is kim chee.

To follow was the best, most legit Corean meal I've ever had.  More bulgogi than you could shake a stick at.  Put Oakland to shame.  Sure, it was a little pricier than we're used to, but it was so worth it, and the company could not be beat.  Simple as it was, it was one of those indescribable and joyous moments that I know I won't forget.