Cooking in Turkey: Homemade Bread
In Turkey a woman’s skills in the kitchen are everything. As modern as this country is, in so many ways the traditions of the past still hold sway, and one of these is the expectation that women should know how to cook decently. In fact, they even have a phrase for a woman who can’t cook, or make a good cup of coffee, they tell her “evde kaldın!” Literally translated, “You’re still stuck at home” the general understanding is "you are unfit for marriage!”
Of course, when Leslie and I first came to Turkey, like any self-respecting American woman in her mid-twenties, we knew our way around a kitchen! We could make pasta, reheat frozen pizzas, and bake cookies with the best of them. Not surprisingly it wasn’t long before we figured out our kitchen skills were woefully inadequate by Turkish standards. I have lost count of the “evde kaldın” labels that have accumulated over my culinary efforts here.
I am glad to say that today our skills have moved beyond the realm of the pre-packaged and frozen, and into the realm of “real food.” We’ve slowly learned some local dishes, and can even make a decent pan of Turkish rice (not as easy as you might expect!) However, there is one culinary task that still strikes fear into my heart whenever it comes up—“hamur açmak” (making and rolling out dough).
Now, you might think that rolling out a batch of dough is no big deal, right? I mean after all, I’ve made my fair share of cinnamon rolls and sugar cookies. Yes, yeast can be a bit intimidating to work with, but in the end it all works out! Well, I can tell you that when it comes to rolling out dough for various Turkish foods no, no it doesn’t all work out. It can be a disaster. And you would be surprised at the feelings of inadequacy and utterly failing at life that can arise out of a simple thing like not being able to roll out a piece of dough.
There is a right way to mix up and roll out dough, whether your intent is to stuff it with cheese or top it with minced meat and spices, or just to cook up plain with some butter and honey. And the final result is just tantalizing for these American, carb-loving tastebuds. So when a friend of ours, Dilek, offered to make up and roll out some dough with us the other day, despite the feelings of failure and inadequacy we knew were coming, we jumped on the offer, for the knowledge of the rewards waiting on the other side. She told us she would be happy to show us how (we didn’t tell her she wasn’t the first to attempt this!), and that she was sure we would pick it up. “So easy!” she said. Famous last words.
The first area in which we fell short was the size of the bowl we pulled out to mix this dough up in. Honestly, it’s the biggest bowl we have. Sweet Dilek looked at it, asked if we had anything bigger, and, upon our insistence that we didn’t, assured us she could make it work (albeit with a worried look in her eye). We then pulled out a 2kg bag of flour and she asked if that was all the flour we had. It was right about this point that we realized maybe we were going to end up with a little more bread than we might be able to eat. Oh well.
Turks are not ones to waste anything, so to liven up our yeast she mixed it with some water from the bottom of our teapot leftover from breakfast. She then proceeded to make “eye decisions” on pouring flour, salt, and water into the bowl, kneading and mixing as she went. We set the dough aside to wait to rise for about an hour or so, wrapping it with a blanket so it would keep warm, and covering it with a cookie tray.
Sure enough, our bowl was definitely not big enough!
We tore off chunks of dough and rolled them in flour to make little balls. This was a lot harder than it looked. Dilek’s advice? “Treat the dough nicely!”
We then rolled them out with a long, thin stick.
Some of our efforts were more successful than others.
There is a certain size, thickness, and consistency to rolling out the dough and when I have done this with friends somehow, someway, they get it perfect. Every. Single. Time. Seriously. I don’t think a machine could do it more perfectly. Or maybe we should just call these Turkish ladies hamur aç-ing machines. So effortless.
After rolling the dough out we tossed it into the pan and waited for it to form small air bubbles on the top before flipping it. Spatulas were not used, just bare hands! As it cooked, the air inside the dough rose and swelled, rounding out the bread. Once it was done we pulled it out, again with bare hands, and placed it next to the stove to cool.
And let me tell you, the final result was delicious. Were there moments of embarrassment as I felt like a three year old who couldn’t draw a circle, much less roll one out of dough? Yes. Were there feelings of failure and self-consciousness as it took me about five minutes to roll a piece out that took my friend all of 30 seconds? Of course. But would I do it again? In a heartbeat.
To our friends in the West, keep looking East!
Ginny Lou Henley
Ginny Lou is a co-founder of West2East. Originally from Alabama, Ginny Lou has called Turkey home for the past nine years. To read more about her, click here.