Following a long day of hiking and a fantastic meal with the wonderous Roz and Kamel in Petra, G had a very traditional Jordanian khawa (coffee) where the spoon was all but able to stand on its own. Now, he loves a good espresso does G, but this was a new experience all together. A good one, but one that made us wonder how something can taste so good when you are experiencing it in the country, and taste so different, so unlike anything you remember when back home.
Cardamon features heavily in traditional arab coffee and the smell took me back to my first experience of the coffee ceremony in Aswan, Egypt, as I read Adhaf Soueif's 'Map of Love' and gazed at the gathering fellucas at the edge of Elephantine Island.
You can try to find a recipe which works, to recreate the flavour and the memory of that moment. But the joy isn't simply in the pot, cup or bowl before you: it's in the bustling street outside, the heavy air which clings to your skin, or the pause where you get to sink back and actually expeience every flavour of the day. The joy of trying to recreate the taste is actually the joy of reliving it in your memory, and the joy of having the time to breathe in the experience you were fortunate enough to have in the first place.
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