Harvest, slowly

Building something from nothing and finding creativity in the chaos

Marhaba! Hello……

I’ve been more than a little quiet here, not for lack of things to say—quite the opposite, actually. Life has been so full, so consuming, and so completely wrapped up in the act of building Harvest, that sitting down to write about it somehow kept slipping further and further down my very long to-do list. Finally, coming back to writing, which I enjoy so much, seems feasible. I have the mental space to process all that’s happened and I got a little kick in the backside from all of the new followers I gained with great thanks to Sunday Kitchen Recipes (a must follow!) who recommended my newsletter in spite of it sitting here idly for almost a year.

Nine months in and it’s amazing to watch Harvest become what I’d hoped it would be all along (often making my eyes mist over as I step back and take it all in). This didn’t happen in a single moment, but in a thousand small ones stitched together. Harvest is a growing community of people who I see multiple times a week. I know their orders when I see them but maybe not their names. It’s the cool kids who come in with their small sunglasses and pale pink Alo Yoga sets to get (you guessed it) iced matcha lattes (coconut milk only, please)! It’s the groups of young women visiting from Kuwait who know us from instagram, the families who’ve made us a ritual, the tetas having brunch. It’s the first guest who comes back and says, “I’ve been thinking about that salad all week.” or the one who proclaimed that Harvest was her happy place. Before we opened someone sort of snidely said that I couldn’t depend on my friends to keep the place going. That had never occurred to me, but I really don’t. I’ve created new friends, new people I’m happy to see when they come through our sliding door, waving as they make a beeline for our pastry counter.

Opening a restaurant is a strange act of optimism. You spend enormous amounts of money, energy, and emotional stability creating a place and simply trust that people will come. That they will care. That my crazy tiny details—the plating, the playlist, what we sell on our shelves, the way the staff greet someone, will add up to something people can feel and respond to. And now nine months in, it’s gratifying to witness the values my co-founder Tara and I put forth before opening really begin to solidify, be appreciated, and make a difference:

Local tastes better.
Food should nourish both body and soul.
Simple food, done properly, is never simple.
Food should understand tradition but not be trapped by it.
Good food is thoughtful but never fussy.
As chefs we should feed people in a way that feels generous, not performative.

And at the end of the day we are female chef-led kitchen built around seasonality, community, and the idea that hospitality should feel like being welcomed, not sold to. Harvest has been built to celebrate Jordan and its deep culinary heritage and bountiful producers. Our dukkaneh (shop) has grown to include an amazing group of talented local artists (mostly women) and the mooneh (pantry) items we make ourselves are inshallah making kitchens around the country a little bit tastier. And perhaps most importantly, Harvest has really become a place where young women in hospitality can feel safe, encouraged, and ambitious. That part matters to me deeply. Restaurants shape people. They shaped me. Some of the best and worst versions of myself were formed in kitchens. I know what it feels like to learn under pressure, to be underestimated, to fight for space, to be exhausted and still deeply certain that this is what you are meant to do. If Harvest can be a place that gives someone a better version of that experience, then I will consider that one of our greatest successes.

CHASING LONGER DAYS

There is something about Summer that changes the rhythm of a day. The light stretches a little longer, there are long lazy mornings at home, dinner once the sun sets, conversations that linger. And here in Amman we’re so blessed that the air softens just enough that sitting outside as the sun fades feels necessary not optional.

While I’ve always thought of Harvest as a daytime place and created a menu that reflects that feeling, we’re taking a bit of a leap and staying open a bit later. Beginning Tuesday, July 7, we’ll be opening our terrace from 4–7 pm with a new early evening menu of seasonal plates that will feel very “Harvest” but designed more for sharing with your friends as the day winds down. I hope it will be the spot you come after work to catch up with friends, enjoy one of our Summer fruit shrubs paired with snacks. It’s the kind of food I find myself wanting to eat at the end of a summer day—not quite dinner, not just a snack, but something generous enough to ease you into the evening. Thinking even bigger, consider picking up dinner on your way home from work or some bagels and smoked salmon cream cheese for the next morning?

JULY OBSESSIONS

One of the quiet joys of summer is abundance and I’m reminded that the best cooking usually begins with restraint—buying well, respecting ingredients, and letting the magic happen. These are some moments of magic that I look out for:

Peaches that only taste like peaches for a few weeks….we have the best in the world here.

Tomatoes that need just a drizzle of oil and some good salt.

Fresh herbs that perfume the kitchen before my knife even touches them.

Melons….all of them…especially in savory salads.

Mini-farm stands that pop up out of nowhere on the streets of Amman, overflowing with cucumbers and fagoos (an Armenian furry cucumber) and sweet peppers.

Corn from Mafraq that reminds me of the sweet Illinois corn we ate every Summer.

WHAT TO COOK NOW

The recipe box over on my Chef Sally Jane website has all kinds of seasonal menu inspiration. Check it out and while you’re there my many years of food and culture writing are there too.

And now, with a little breathing room between services, I’m looking forward to returning here—not just to tell you what’s happening at Harvest, but to write about food again, about restaurants, cookbooks, ingredients, travel, the people who inspire me, and all the little culinary rabbit holes I seem incapable of avoiding.

I’ve missed this! Thank you for waiting.

More culinary conversations coming your way soon…..

xx CSJ