Two days, one night, six people at most, because that is how many the guest flat downstairs sleeps. Day one starts at half six at Souk el-Khodra, buying in bulk: a crate of baby aubergines for makdous, walnuts, red pepper, za'atar from Ajloun. The morning goes on preserving - salting, stuffing, packing jars under olive oil - and the afternoon on warak enab, rolled from the vine on the balcony until your thumbs complain. Evening is knafeh and whichever cousins turn up. Day two is mansaf, from soaking jameed at nine to eating standing round the tray at two with the whole family. You leave with two jars and a recipe card. The guest flat is honest rather than lovely: two bedrooms, one bathroom shared between everyone, hot water on a timer we will explain twice, a fan instead of air conditioning. The mosque opposite calls fajr around 4.40 in summer and you will hear all of it. There is no lift, so you, the shopping and the jars all come up 46 stone steps. If you need a private bathroom or a quiet night, book a hotel on Rainbow Street and do the two days with us from there - we are happy to arrange that.
We are three generations in one kitchen on the third floor of a 1960s house off Second Circle in Jabal Amman. Sitti Nawal is 84 and still rolls warak enab faster than her daughters. Rana and Suha do the arguing about how much samneh is too much. Leen translates, badly, on purpose. We are not a cooking school and there are no aprons with our name on them - you stand at our counter, you cook lunch, and you eat it at the table with whoever else is home that day. Most sessions start early at Souk el-Khodra with a shopping list and an empty crate. Come hungry and leave the afternoon free.
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