Breaking Bread in Jordan - 12/21/25 - Jessica

Word of the Day: Breaking Bread

Definition: To share a meal together, especially as a sign of trust, welcome, and relationship

The Experience: On our first day in Jordan, we joined a food tour in Amman led by Jumana, and what unfolded felt less like a tour and more like an invitation. Jumana guided us through the city, through souks (markets) and food stalls, into local conversations and Jordanian customs, in a way that felt both knowledgeable and personal.

Sometimes we sampled food from the hands and tables of strangers as we walked by. When Jumana spotted friends along the way, we were suddenly welcomed in. Each time, I paused, aware of my hesitation, only to be handed something irresistible, like freshly roasted peanuts, as if we were friends already. We sampled fresh fruit, dates, peanuts, and olives (six different kinds) as we moved through the city. We drank tea with locals. We ate mansaf, and according to Jumana, we ate it the way it is meant to be eaten: together, slowly, and with care. 

What made the experience stand out most was the way Jumana shared stories from her own family and traditions. Her stories turned each dish into something bigger than the food in front of us. We talked about our parents and grandparents. I tried to explain Grandma Polly’s cranberry muffins with butter sauce, and the funny way we always skip Jerry when he asks for something to be passed from the other side of the table. Jumana shared that her father would always say whoever can eat to the middle of the mansaf plate is the strongest. Jumana always won, and I don’t doubt it one bit! The woman can definitely hold her own! Our conversations became moments of connection and memory. Oliver is still talking about the za’atar bread, and has eaten it every day since. 

Breaking bread here was not casual, by any means. It was intentional. Food was offered as a gesture of trust. Jumana explained that it is like an invitation to sit, to stay, to share this space, like a way of saying, “You are welcome here.”  And boy did we feel welcome! 

The experience made me think about how often food sits at the center of the relationships that matter most in my own life. In our family, recipes are given and passed along, and they become memories of particular days and moments. Bev, my mother-in-law, often makes our favorite foods for us, and it is a consistent act of care. Just this past Thanksgiving, Brock, my brother-in-law, asked me for my sweet potato casserole recipe, which originally came from my Aunt Betty, which I remember eating on Thanksgiving in Detroit many, many years ago. My sister-in-law Jenny’s sloppy Joe recipe has made the rounds several times, and every time I eat it, I remember Easter at her house. And if anyone so much as mentions Roosevelt beans in the Noland family, it turns instantly into laughter (a story for another time).

Breaking bread, whether around a table at home or standing in a market halfway across the world, creates a shared space where trust can form and new stories are made. It reminded me that food is one of the ways we connect across generations and cultures.

What We Ate:

Man’ousheh with za’atar - Oliver’s favorite. Warm, chewy, with lots of herbs. He has already told me many times that we have to make this back in Minnesota. To my Jordanian colleagues, I will be asking for a recipe soon! 

Falafel Al-Quds - Crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, with lamb and spices. Jumana recommended a squeeze of lemon. So good! 

Fresh-squeezed lemon and mint juice - Why have I not been drinking this my entire life?

Kefta with tahini - Rich and savory

Arayes - Simple, but good

Mint tea - A ten-year-old tea boy appeared, pulled four chairs seemingly out of nowhere, placed them beside a few locals, and suddenly we were sitting together, drinking tea and chatting. A moment not planned, but so rewarding. 

Mansaf - Jordan’s traditional dish, and according to Jumana, often the only dish served. It sits at the center. We twirled the rice with our bare hands until it formed a sticky ball, tossed it into the palm of our hand, and popped it off our thumb. I never quite mastered the technique, but it was absolutely delicious.

Kunafeh - Warm, gooey, just sweet enough. Yum! 

Arabian ice cream - Chocolatey, stretchy (seriously, there is no other word than stretchy), and entirely unlike the ice cream I know, and I know ice cream! 

Reflection: I used to think sharing food was simply polite. Now I think breaking bread is an act of trust and connection. One thing I still wonder is how many meaningful relationships begin not with conversation, but with a meal. Here’s to more breaking bread!