Author: fd df

  • Khorovats and Kebabs’ Origins

    [vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1588583692936{margin-bottom: 40px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Khorovats and Kebabs’ Origins” font_container=”tag:h1|text_align:center” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”orange” border_width=”2″ el_width=”20″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]

    Kebabs are various cooked meat dishes, with their origins in Middle Eastern cuisine. Many variants are popular around the world. In most English-speaking countries, a kebab is commonly the internationally known shish kebab or shashlik, though outside of North America a kebab may be the ubiquitous fast-food doner kebab or its variants. By contrast, in Indian English and in the languages of the Middle East, other parts of Asia, and the Muslim world, a kebab is any of a wide variety of grilled meat dishes.

    Kebabs consist of cut up or ground meat, sometimes with vegetables, and various other accompaniments according to the specific recipe. Although kebabs are typically cooked on a skewer over a fire, some kebab dishes are baked in a pan in an oven or prepared as a stew

    Khorovats is a dish of pieces of meat grilled on flat skewers known as shish or shampoor. It is very popular, especially on festive occasions. In contrast to shish kebab, the meat pieces are typically larger, and left on the bone. While sometimes coated in salt, pepper, onions, and herbs shortly before cooking, vinegar-based marinades are not used. Various kinds of meat are used, the most common is pork, with ribs being the most popular cut. Vegetables are not cooked on the same skewer.

    Seasoned oblong meatballs cooked on skewers, known in other regions as lule kebab or kufte, are called kyabab, with the emphasis on the first syllable. Karsi khorovats is the Armenian name for doner kebab, which the city of Kars became known for during the time of the Ottoman Empire.

    [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • How does Lavash influence Armenian Culture and Tradition?

    [vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1588583692936{margin-bottom: 40px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”How does Lavash influence Armenian Culture and Tradition?” font_container=”tag:h1|text_align:center” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”orange” border_width=”2″ el_width=”20″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]

    Lavash is a soft, thin unleavened flatbread made in a tandoor and eaten all over the South Caucasus, Western Asia and the areas surrounding the Caspian Sea.In 2014, “Lavash, the preparation, meaning and appearance of traditional bread as an expression of culture in Armenia” was inscribed in the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

    In Sabirabad District of Azerbaijan after a wedding, the bride and groom enters the house and they would break a plate which brought good luck. The couple were to be greeted by the groom’s mother who offered them Lavash and honey. Eating a spoon of honey symbolized happiness for the newlyweds. They wore the lavash on their shoulders for good luck and to keep away evil spirits. At this time, the guests showered them with sweets, nuts and coins for a warm welcome and gave the couple gifts, money and jewels. The celebration then continued with amazing foods, drinks, and traditional Armenian music and dancing until late evening. Although the traditions have been adjusted for modern times, many couples still continue to break a plate as they enter the banquet hall for their reception. In the Novkhani settlement, after a funeral, it is customary for people to prepare kyulchya, which sometimes consists of halva wrapped up in lavash.

    Dried lavash can be used for long-term storage (almost one year) and is used instead of leavened bread in Eucharist traditions by the Armenian Apostolic Church.

     

    [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • A Short History of Khash

    [vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1588583692936{margin-bottom: 40px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”A Short History of Khash” font_container=”tag:h1|text_align:center” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”orange” border_width=”2″ el_width=”20″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]

    A recipe for the Armenian soup called khash, at its most basic, goes something like this: Simmer cows’ hooves overnight. Serve. Gelatinous beef trotters—flavored tableside with sinus-clearing add-ins like lemon, salt, vinegar and raw garlic—may sound like the last thing you’d reach for when nursing a hangover, but Armenians swear by khash’s panacean powers, particularly in the winter, when it’s customarily eaten. Across the small Caucasus nation, friends gather for morning-after khash feasts complete with ritualistic toasts and—as Anthony Bourdain discovered while shooting a Parts Unknown episode set to air in March—punishing hair-of-the-dog vodka shots. Offal soups are quintessential hangover fare across many cultures, from Mexican menudo rojo to Albanian paçe to Korean haejangguk, but none, perhaps, is as much of an event as Armenian khash. “Khash parties are all-day affairs,” said Samvel Hovhannisyan, owner of Bureaucrat Café and Bookstore in Yerevan. “After you’ve eaten the soup in the morning and made the accompanying toasts—to the day, to the cooks, and to the guests, in that order—you drink and sing and dance like crazy. When people get hungry again, you might have a barbecue, followed by coffee and tea and sweets.” Even the soup’s preparation is a production. The hooves must be plucked meticulously of any stray hairs and soaked in water for a day to remove impurities and funky odors. Then comes the cooking, an eight-hour simmer requiring hourly check-ins, lest the pot dry out. Khash-fueled breakfasts start around 9 a.m., which means cooks often literally lose sleep over the dish. “It’s a sacrifice,” said Hovhannisyan. “That’s why the toast to the cook is so important.” For the broth to remain white and nearly transparent, the mark of a well-made khash, Armenian cooks don’t add salt to the pot during cooking: It’s up to the end user how much salt and other traditional flavorings to mix into the finished soup. Armenians are known to add up to eight cloves’ worth of garlic to each portion. Two types of lavash, or flatbread, always grace the table: dry, for crumbling into the broth, and fresh, for draping over the bowl to seal in the heat. Purists, like Hovhannisyan, insist that fresh lavash—torn and folded for easy scooping—is the only acceptable utensil for eating khash, and that vodka, never wine or beer, is its only worthy sidekick.

    Traditionally, khash feasts were restricted to men, who also presided over the preparation of the soup — a novelty in a region with a culinary tradition dominated by the females. The pungent aromas of the soup, and its associated vodka troughs, were once deemed unacceptable to women. In addition, men and women traditionally eat separately in Armenia, so considering the ancient origins of Khash, it is no wonder the division persisted.

    Khash lovers in present-day Armenia are young and old, wealthy and poor. But it goes without saying in a world where almost one-third of the population lives in poverty that not everyone has the resources to throw lavish feasts.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • Where to find sangak

    [vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1588583692936{margin-bottom: 40px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Where to find Sangak” font_container=”tag:h1|text_align:center” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”orange” border_width=”2″ el_width=”20″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1582696457767{padding-bottom: 100px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”15976″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” onclick=”custom_link” img_link_target=”_blank” link=”https://www.latimes.com/food/dailydish/la-dd-sangak-persian-flatbread-20151030-story.html” css=”.vc_custom_1588829216368{padding-bottom: 20px !important;}”][vc_column_text]Even before you taste the tangy, leavened Persian flatbread known as sangak or nan-e sangak, there is so much to marvel over. Made of whole wheat flour, it’s sold in sheets so long they could be used as a sesame-seed encrusted table runner at your next biblically-themed dinner party.

    It can be found at most Persian markets packaged in plastic and drooping lazily over the sides of shelves like an endless swath of delicious carbohydrates. But a strong case can be made for buying it at one of L.A.’s Persian bakeries, where it’s prepared fresh right in front of you or plucked from a drying rack where the sangak hangs like so much tanning leather or maybe slices of sea sponge.

    Buying sangak at a place such as Naan Hut on Santa Monica Boulevard, in the Sawtelle neighborhood on the Westside, where it’s baked in-house, also gives you a chance to see how much sangak individual patrons purchase — though it goes stale after a couple of days, it freezes well, so customers will often take home five pieces, or sometimes 10.

    You can also see how each portion of sangak is spread out onto a length of brown paper (in Iran, it’s wrapped in fabric) and folded into an “S” shape so the moist, still-warm bread doesn’t stick together.

     

    According to Ramiro Garcia, one of Naan Hut’s heat-flushed counter men, sangak in Iran is traditionally baked over beds of small, blisteringly hot rocks. (The name means “pebbles.”) But here in the U.S., health authorities insist that concessions are made to things such as dental safety.

    “Sometimes the rocks stick to the bread,” said Garcia, who then pantomimes biting down on something hard. “You could break a tooth.”

    Instead, Naan Hut achieves sangak’s pockmarked, intermittently charred surface by way of a rotating, bumpily textured metal bed that sits tilted at an angle inside the bakery’s enormous stainless steel oven, which was shipped from Iran via Canada and is heated to between 150 and 200 degrees Celsius. Using a wooden baker’s peel, the wet dough is slid on top of the hot metal disc, which twirls until the bread is done, a process that takes just a few minutes.

    On the Internet, debates about sangak in Los Angeles tend to be about which bakery makes it best — Naan Hut or Woodland Hills’ Asal Bakery and Kabob.

    Though there is consensus that it is best eaten warm from the oven or a toaster, so that the outside is crispy while the inside is soft and chewy, there is a lot of back and forth about what to eat with sangak — topped with tomato and feta cheese, served with the yogurt shallot dip known as mast-o-musir, or slathered with beurre blanc, etc.

    There is regrettably, however, no thread explaining how to stop eating sangak once you get started, perhaps because it’s sort of impossible.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • What Do You Eat Three-Foot Long Sangak Flatbread With?

    [vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1588583692936{margin-bottom: 40px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”What Do You Eat Three-Foot Long Sangak Flatbread With?” font_container=”tag:h1|text_align:center” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”orange” border_width=”2″ el_width=”20″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1582696457767{padding-bottom: 100px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_column_text]When a wedding buffet pushes you into this spacey state of existence, making everyone in the buffet line vanish away and leaving one twisted thought lingering in your head…ah, if only I could share that goat head crowned with tempered rice with my readers. When you’re having nightmares about whether your facebook page followers have stealthily unliked your page and left you high and dry, with one pathetic like…from yourself. When you have this overwhelming feeling of needing to jump out of the car and review the first place that crosses your path…even when you really don’t have much of an appetite cause that dang flu virus in India has done this wicked black magic on your precious tummy. When you nearly kiss the camera with joy at the first moment you can pull it out and photograph the salt and pepper shaker over lunch. When you do a bunch of other nasty and embarrassing things that had best be left off of my public domain…

    …then you know you’re having deep-rooted blog withdrawal symptoms.

    I did, I had those symptoms…and boy, did I miss this blog. The big fat Indian wedding was a dream over the last few weeks – one that involved so much food and dancing and after-party karaoking that it totally wiped me off the blogging planet for nearly a month. But I’ve missed you guys. And I’ve missed all those little corners of Dubai that serve me my curries and kababs and my hot fresh breads straight out the tandoor. All those little places that keep Dubai real warm and tasty for me.

    The last couple of times I was in the area, I’d watched in fascination as three-foot long pimpled breads were being hauled out of a dome-like oven in a room beside the main restaurant. The image has been rolling restlessly in that part of my brain that tortures me with images of doughnuts or haleem or thick juicy kababs every time I’m sick and hungry and miles away from the source of the image. It’s a sort of strange mental masochistic tendency – when my brain knows that my tummy has gone for a toss, it’ll twist the knife in my tortured wounds by flashing past images of seen-but-not-tried foods in front of my face. The last time that happened, I started googling for food photos on my tiny blackberry screen, desperate for a glimpse of something that was miles away in Dubai, all the while squirming with tummy cramps in some little town during my travels to India. Desperate, desperate foodie that I am.

    Thank God for global data plans.

    Khoory brings to Dubai one of the most traditional types of Irani bread – sangak bread, which basically translates to ‘stone bread.’ I’d never seen an oven filled with red hot burning pebbles like the one they had at Khoory. Bread fanatic that I am, I just stood and stared as the sangak-guys tore off a clump of elasticky leavened dough, slapped it on a peel, stretched it out and sort of played ‘piano’ all along the length of it, perforating it with little craters that were sprinkled all over with white sesame seeds.

    Now there’s some step in between where that one-foot bread baby gets pulled out into a three-foot mammoth, a step that I’ve stupidly missed in all my gawking at those long cratered landscapes of bread that were being hung up on the wall.

    Now in addition to the live open-to-public bread-making, Khoory has their grill laid out in an adjoining little section of the restaurant. We’re talking kababs and tomatoes and hot flaming charcoal…all those elements that make you feel closer to your kababs cause you can watch it being made, feel the heat on your sweaty palms as you bend down close to get a whiff of grilled meat. THIS is what I wanted on my plate, with that hot ogre of a sangak by my side.

    With a name like Khoory Special Kababs, you’re setting the bar of tender grilled meat super high. I didn’t know which of the list of kababs on the menu was special per se…was it the exotic-sounding lamb shishlik? Or maybe it was the chicken tekkah? Or maybe I was overthinking it and the Khoory peeps just threw in the word ‘special’ without realizing that I’d be paralysed by the potential implication of such a word? Yeah, probably.

    When faced with gross indecision about which kabab to order, a mixed platter of meat will be your lone lantern in the dark.

    I started spearing my fork through the plate, starting with the cubes of mutton kabab and the long meat tikkas. Heavy meaty flavor, check. Juiciness, check. Tenderness…chewchewchew…chewsomemore…chewohno….bitsoffat…whyfatwhyyyyy….chewy. Overall decent kababs, but not the best I’ve had in town. The chicken kababs fared better on the tenderness scale – light, moist, tender…but again, nothing that would have me googling for kabab photos on my crackberry in those restlessly hungry moments that ascend on me when I’m miles away from edible salvation.

    Just then, just as I’d nearly written off the s-word, I found it. I found the special kabab. The kabab koobideh. This log of minced meat was glistening with a thin sheen of oil and was laying quietly right at the extreme edge of my plate. The koobideh was so outrageously moist and well-seasoned [was it parsley? or cumin in the seasoning? or both? whatever it was, it was pretty magical…] that it obliterated every other previous bite of less-awesome kabab from that plate.

    Let me also draw your attention to the sangak bread under the bed of kababs. On its own, the bread has this rustic sesame-tinged feel to it – I could imagine pulling bits of it, slathered with some butter, slightly stretchy bits, slightly crispy bits, eating through it on some mountain village somewhere, with a steaming hot cup of chai. And maybe surrounded by Yaks.

    Definitely surrounded by Yaks.

    But under the kababs, the bread had sucked up all the kabab juices and forgotten that it had been born a bread to begin with. It had morphed into this rich chewy blanket of meaty drippings. An identity crisis at its delicious best.

    [On a separate note, I actually took the rest of the dry, unkabab-ed bread home and the parents toasted it up for dinner. So damn good, both that night, and the next night. The next time we have a soup and bread day, sangak is going to be the bread star of the table.]

    What was also very special was the bowl of lentil soup that the kababs came with…

    …into which I also dipped pieces of my sangak [I was mixing and matching the bread with everything on the table by this point…in my soup, in my yogurt, with my kababs…I almost thought of sprinkling some salt on a morsel and layering it up with some of the green leaves from the salad…but that idea died somewhere in between the utterly addictive kabab koobideh and the lentil soup.] I’m sure that making the soup in a kitchen close to the kabab grill had something to do with the taste – I’m convinced that the meat juices vaporize into the air and then condense back down over the lentils and baby noodles swirling around in the soup cauldron. Sort of like a cross-pollination of awesome flavours in the kitchen…

    I’m glad that I started my blogging year with discovering what’s so special about Khoory. No…I’m not just glad, in fact, I’m relieved that I have my blogger-foodie-explorer cape back after it’d been sitting at the laundry for nearly a month. I finally have my first blog post of 2012 [hallelujah.] And a Kabab-happy tummy. And a new sesame-studded bread discovery. I can feel it in my bones…t’is gonna be a good, good year.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • Sangak: Long, Iranian Flatbread

    [vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1588583692936{margin-bottom: 40px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Sangak: Long, Iranian Flatbread” font_container=”tag:h1|text_align:center” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”orange” border_width=”2″ el_width=”20″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1582696457767{padding-bottom: 100px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”15961″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” onclick=”custom_link” img_link_target=”_blank” link=”https://www.goodfoodstl.com/2018/09/sangak-iranian-bread/” css=”.vc_custom_1588759161319{padding-bottom: 20px !important;}”][vc_column_text]

    Sangak looks more like a table runner than a piece of bread. The sheet of flatbread was longer before we nibbled away about six inches. Good stuff!

    Recently I came upon an Iranian bread at Jay’s International Market. The sheets of Sangak, made with whole wheat flour and sourdough, were almost 3 feet long! Robin was pleased to see the bread, that she had once eaten warm from an Iranian bakery in California. It’s awkward to handle, but we managed to make room in my grocery cart for the funky flatbread.[/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]

    An Army Travels on Its Stomach

    I love food that comes with a story and Sangak comes with a delightful historic tale. This mainstay of the Persian army was first mentioned in the 11th century. It was baked atop small, blistering hot river stones, which caused the pebbly markings on its surface. (Sangak in Persian means pebble).

    To facilitate the baking, each soldier carried a number of small stones, which at camp were placed together to create the sangak oven, that would bake bread for the entire army. Afterwards, each soldier scooped up some of the cooled pebbles and packed them away for the next meal. How clever is that! The world’s first portable oven![/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • CNN Travel – Sangak, 50 of the World’s Best Breads

    [vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1588583692936{margin-bottom: 40px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Sangak, 50 of the World’s Best Breads” font_container=”tag:h1|text_align:center” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”orange” border_width=”2″ el_width=”20″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text](CNN) — What is bread? You likely don’t have to think for long, and whether you’re hungry for a slice of sourdough or craving some tortillas, what you imagine says a lot about where you’re from.

    But if bread is easy to picture, it’s hard to define.

    Bread historian William Rubel argues that creating a strict definition of bread is unnecessary, even counterproductive. “Bread is basically what your culture says it is,” says Rubel, the author of “Bread: A Global History.” “It doesn’t need to be made with any particular kind of flour.”

    Instead, he likes to focus on what bread does: It turns staple grains such as wheat, rye or corn into durable foods that can be carried into the fields, used to feed an army or stored for winter.

    Even before the first agricultural societies formed around 10,000 B.C., hunter-gatherers in Jordan’s Black Desert made bread with tubers and domesticated grain.[/vc_column_text][vc_separator color=”custom” border_width=”2″ accent_color=”#e0a81a” css=”.vc_custom_1582683921936{padding-top: 20px !important;padding-bottom: 10px !important;}”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1582696067841{padding-top: 20px !important;padding-bottom: 100px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_column_text]

    Sangak, Iran

    [/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]It takes a pair of deft bakers to craft this addictive Iranian flatbread, which is cooked directly on a bed of hot pebbles.
    That blazing-hot surface pocks the wheat dough with golden blisters, and it gives sangak — also known as nan-e sangak — a characteristic chewiness.
    If you’re lucky enough to taste sangak hot from the oven, enjoy a heavenly contrast of crisp crust and tender crumb. Eat the flatbread on its own, or turn it into an Iranian-style breakfast: Use a piece of sangak to wrap salty cheese and a bundle of aromatic green herbs. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • Our Armenia Trip & Lavash Bread Experience

    [vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1588583692936{margin-bottom: 40px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Tasting Lavash Bread in Armenia” font_container=”tag:h1|text_align:center” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”orange” border_width=”2″ el_width=”20″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1582693987505{padding-bottom: 100px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”12242″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” onclick=”custom_link” img_link_target=”_blank” link=”https://www.lavashthebook.com/dispatches/2018/4/19/on-the-lavash-trail-in-armenia-tc8ma” css=”.vc_custom_1582693791592{padding-top: 30px !important;padding-bottom: 20px !important;}”][vc_column_text]

    In Yeghvard, a village outside of Yerevan, home bakers offered us a platter of cheese and herbs to eat with the fresh lavash they were making.

    [/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”20px”][vc_column_text]The first lavash we ate after arriving in Yerevan came from the corner store near our rental apartment. It was pale and paper-thin, but durable enough to wrap it around scrambled eggs and cheese. This lavash wouldn’t be the lavash that changed our lives, but it served an important purpose: refueling our brains after two days of airports, layovers, and plane seats.

    The “we” in this story comprises Ara Zada, a chef, John Lee, a photographer, and me, a food writer. Our admiration and interest in Armenian food is what brought us together to form the team behind the cookbook Lavash, to be published by Chronicle Books in 2019. Ara grew up going to an Armenian school in Southern California, but he wanted to dig deeper into his heritage. John got to know Armenian food—especially lavash—while teaching a food photography workshop at Tumo, an after-school digital media and cultural learning center for youth in Armenia. And I got hooked in college while writing thesis on food and Armenian cultural identity. Through friends and Tumo’s global network, we met up and set out to create a cookbook about Armenian food, with lavash firmly at the heart of the story.

    Why lavash? It’s the most culturally important bread in Armenia, added to Unesco’s intangible cultural heritage list in 2014. The act of baking lavash has also been documented in countless paintings. In the 1970s, President Gerald Ford even selected a print of “Armenian Ladies Baking Lavash” by Armenian-American artist Manuel Tolegian for the White House Bicentennial Collection.

    Yet lavash is also painfully misunderstood outside of the Caucasus. (One English-language cookbook suggested that tortillas make a good substitute—they don’t.) Even the factory-made lavash we ate for breakfast, which came in a plastic bag, was miles ahead of the flatbread’s imposters we had sampled back home. But it wouldn’t be the last lavash we ate, either. If we wanted to learn how to make the real thing, we were going to need to venture much farther than the corner store.

    The first stop: GUM Market, a large covered market near downtown Yerevan. In addition to the bright rows of dried fruit and nut vendors at the front of the market were tables stacked with large sheets of lavash, some were thicker and more blistered while others were light and tissue-thin. Periodically, the women sprinkled water over the stacks of bread using a water bottle with holes punched in the lid. This helped refresh the bread, keeping each sheet pliable. That’s one of the great things about lavash: all it needs to come back to life is a splash of water.[/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”20px”][vc_column_text]We started talking to the women. “Why does this bread have so many blisters?” we asked. It’s baked in a tonir, they answered, referring to the subterranean clay oven heated with a wood fire at the base. Like naan in a tandoor, bakers stick lavash to the sides of the oven to bake it, which gives it irregular blisters. In comparison, factory-made lavash is much more uniform in color.

    “Does the bread have yeast?” “Yes, drozhzhi,” they said, the Russian word for yeast. Was it commercial yeast or something more like a sourdough starter? That they couldn’t tell us.

    If the women selling lavash at GUM could share part of the story, the rest could be gathered at a tonir village, a place known for the goods it makes from a tonir. But when we arrived in Argel, a village about 20 minutes outside of Yerevan, the women were taking the day off from baking. Instead, they were busy hanging strands of arishta, a pasta made from a salty flour-based dough, out to dry on clotheslines.

    We drove instead to Yeghvard, a nearby village, where a friend said her neighbors were baking lavash to prepare for winter.

    The large house had two green houses in the back while the floor of the entrance and the roof were covered in bedsheets. On the sheets were rows of just-baked lavash, drying in the open air. Between the house and the greenhouses, a tonir smoldered away, surrounded by four women, each with a different job, from shaping, to rolling, stretching, or baking the bread. To remove the bread from the wall of the tonir, one of the women used a hook to fish it out, letting it cool for a few seconds before stacking it on top of a pile of baked lavash.[/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”20px”][vc_column_text]The bakers handed us strips of warm lavash and pulled out a plate of salty cheese, cilantro sprigs and skinny green onions to eat with it. Slightly charred and warm, this lavash was in a different league from the store-bough lavash from our first morning—chewier, less fragile, and deeper in flavor.

    The women explained that they’re neighborhood friends and always get together to help make lavash in the fall, but only to eat for themselves, not to sell it. Once it’s dry, they stack it and store it in a spare bedroom. We took a look: there was enough lavash in the house to stock all of GUM Market.

    “Do you add yeast?” we asked. Yes, yes, they said, and then dictated their recipe. We ate a few more lavash wraps before thanking them and heading back to Yerevan.

    A few days later, we returned to Argel on baking day so we could see the village in action. The women had similar roles as the women in Yeghvard, with an addition: One manned the shop, counting out change with an abacus when men rolled up in vans to purchase piles of lavash to resell elsewhere. It was a cold morning, so the bakers invited us to with our legs dangling in the hole next to the tonir to warm our feet while they got ready to start baking.[/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”20px”][vc_column_text]Do you add yeast?” we asked the woman mixing dough a large, old mixer fitted with a dough hook. Yes, she said, but she also saved dough from the day before and mixed it into a new batch. Why? We asked. For flavor and texture, she explained. She then covered the dough with a jacket to keep it warm while it rested in between mixes.

    We then stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt while the women cranked up the fire and settled into a fast-paced rhythm of rolling, streching, and baking dough.

    When it was time for a break, one of the bakers walked to the back of the shop and pulled out a pot of hot, boiled potatoes and some pickled beets and peppers. We wrapped the potatoes around the lavash. Without expecting much, we took a bite.

    Maybe it was the smell of the wood-fired tonir, maybe it was the superiority of the potato, maybe it was the feeling of getting this close to the source—whatever was the reason, it remains one of the most unforgettable things we ate in Armenia.

    On our trip back to California, we packed lavash so we could keep enjoying it while we worked out the recipe. Like the lavash at GUM market, it rehydrated easily after being misted with water. That precious supply, however, is gone. And now the real work begins– recreating that same lavash satisfaction, but this time in America. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • Armenian National Bread Lavash

    [vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1588583692936{margin-bottom: 40px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Armenian National Bread Lavash” font_container=”tag:h1|text_align:center” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”orange” border_width=”2″ el_width=”20″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1582685841871{padding-bottom: 100px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”12244″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” onclick=”custom_link” img_link_target=”_blank” link=”https://rentyerevan.com/armenian-national-bread-lavash/” css=”.vc_custom_1582694529951{padding-top: 30px !important;padding-bottom: 20px !important;}”][vc_column_text]You have probably heard about lavash, traditional Armenian bread, which is an important part of the Armenian table. Lavash is not just bread, it’s part of history and culture, and it has its own legend.

    A king named Aram that ruled in Armenia, was captured by the Assyrian king Nosor. For an honest victory over King Aram, the Assyrian king refused to kill him, instead he offered an honest battle, competition archery. There was one condition: Aram should have been left without food for 10 days. According to Nosor’s plan, Aram should have been weakened without food, so that he could win him without effort.

    King Aram understood the cunning plan of Nosor and demanded from his army to bring his most beautiful shield. Without suspecting anything the messengers went to the border. Armenians guessed what the king was asking for and baked thin bread, which was hidden in a shield. Thus, every day King Aram demanded a new shield, explaining that every time they sent the wrong one. On the eleventh day the Assyrian king amde a shot and expected to see the weakened king Aram. Aram won in competition and saved his country. Intelligence and Armenian bread have a great power. Of course, we admit that this could be just a legend, but in every legend there are words of truth.

    What is Armenian lavash? It is a large oval bread made from fresh white dough. The process of making bread is a whole spectacle. Lavash is traditionally cooked in tonir. Tonir is a clay hearth that is digged in the ground. Every farmhouse had a separate building reserved for tonir, as it was a tradition for an Armenian family to bake bread and make shish kebab in tonir. Toner is heated with brushwood, and after the fire gets lower, the bread is baked. From the side, the process looks rather extreme: the women roll out the dough to a thin flat cake, dangle over the hot tonir and throw the dough on the walls of the tonir. When the cake is covered with bubbles, lavash is removed and folded. Nothing is compared to the aroma of fresh and hot lavash.

    The tradition of baking lavash in tonir has a thousand-year history and it has survived to our days. Of course in big cities lavash is baked in modern stoves, but if you want to see the real process of baking lavash, you need to visit small villageswhere every house has its tonir.

    In recent years, gastronomic tours and eco tours have become quite popular in Armenia. Those tours offer tourists to get a closer look to traditions of Armenian cuisine. Baking Armenian bread is the most important and exciting part of gastronomic tours.

    Armenian lavash is not only delicious, but also very useful bread. Since it does not contain yeast, it is ideal for those who have decide to go on a diet. In addition, it is possible to cook very tasty and interesting dishes with meat and lavash (lavash is used instead of dough in this case).

    As a proof that Armenian lavash bread is an important part of the history and culture of Armenia, UNESCO included lavash in the list of intangible cultural heritage as an element of Armenian culture.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

  • Armenian Lavash Flatbread Features

    [vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1588583692936{margin-bottom: 40px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Lavash Flatbread Features” font_container=”tag:h1|text_align:center” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”orange” border_width=”2″ el_width=”20″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1582685841871{padding-bottom: 100px !important;}”][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”12235″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” onclick=”custom_link” img_link_target=”_blank” link=”https://armeniagogo.com/armenian-lavash/” css=”.vc_custom_1582687955741{padding-top: 30px !important;padding-bottom: 20px !important;}”][vc_column_text]Lavash is a soft and thin unleavened flatbread. It is made and eaten all over the Caucasus, Western Asia and the areas surrounding the Caspian Sea.

    In Armenia, this is the most widespread type of bread. It’s not even hard, but we’d claim that it’s impossible to find an Armenian table without lavash.

    During centuries, this bread has not only occupied the highest place in Armenian cuisine, but also acquired the sacramental meaning, symbolizing life and wisdom. There are million ways to describe why Armenians are so obsessed with lavash.

    It’s dietary, very easy in usage, can be the best option for any type of roll, has the simplest recipe and above all is yummy.

    Go on reading and find only the recipe of Armenian lavash, what makes it so special and unique for Armenians.[/vc_column_text][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1582688631570{padding-top: 20px !important;}”]

    Armenian Lavash: When to Eat

    [/vc_column_text][vc_separator color=”custom” border_width=”2″ accent_color=”#e0a81a” css=”.vc_custom_1582688201474{padding-bottom: 10px !important;}”][vc_column_text]In general, Armenians don’t need a special occasion to eat lavash. You can find lavash next to other ordinary types of bread at usual Armenian table. In many cases, lavash even is used much more often.

    The reason for this is the special dishes that include lavash and no other bread can replace it. One of the most popular Armenian traditional dishes – khash, is a unique one, as Armenians used to eat it only after crumbling dried lavash into the broth.

     

    Except of being a food to eat, lavash also plays a symbolic meaning in Armenian culture. It’s no surprise that it symbolizes Armenia itself for foreigners. For Armenians lavash symbolizes prosperous and peaceful family.

    This concept stands behind the tradition to put lavash on newlyweds’ shoulders during wedding. This is a special ritual that is done by groom’s mother, it is a symbol of a new prosperous family and fertility.[/vc_column_text][vc_separator color=”custom” align=”align_left” style=”double” el_width=”40″ accent_color=”#e0a81a” css=”.vc_custom_1582688751167{padding-bottom: 10px !important;}”][vc_separator color=”custom” border_width=”2″ accent_color=”#e0a81a” css=”.vc_custom_1582688201474{padding-bottom: 10px !important;}”][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1582689052694{padding-top: 20px !important;}”]

    Special features of Armenian Lavash

    [/vc_column_text][vc_separator color=”custom” border_width=”2″ accent_color=”#e0a81a” css=”.vc_custom_1582688201474{padding-bottom: 10px !important;}”][vc_column_text]We highly doubt that there could have been any tourist that visited Armenia and didn’t try lavash at some point. We highly doubt that after tying lavash once there could be anyone, who may not like it. So, as now you already know the recipe of lavash, it is the very time to know about the special features of it.

    Let’s agree that baking is one thing, but being able to use it efficiently is the next most important step.[/vc_column_text][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1582688799593{padding-top: 20px !important;}”]

    Armenian Lavash: Special Feature #1

    [/vc_column_text][vc_separator color=”custom” align=”align_left” style=”double” el_width=”40″ accent_color=”#e0a81a” css=”.vc_custom_1582688751167{padding-bottom: 10px !important;}”][vc_column_text]One of the most specific features, which is visible is the thinness. Lavash is among the thinnest breads in the world. Since drama is an inseparable part of Armenian identity, of course there should be legends even about food. There you go – a legend about why lavash is so flat![/vc_column_text][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1582688839093{padding-top: 20px !important;}”]

    Legend about Lavash and the Armenian King

    [/vc_column_text][vc_separator color=”custom” align=”align_left” style=”double” el_width=”40″ accent_color=”#e0a81a” css=”.vc_custom_1582688751167{padding-bottom: 10px !important;}”][vc_column_text]According to the legend, King Aram of Armenia was imprisoned by the Assyrian ruler, Nebuchadnezzar, during a battle. The Assyrian leader didn’t consider this to be a victory over the king, so he said that he would deprive Aram from food for 10 days. On the 11th day the two would have an archery competition.

    If the Armenian king managed to win, that would mean he was stronger than the Assyrian ruler, so he would set King Aram free.

    After thinking about it a lot, Aram asked for the most beautiful shield to be brought to him from the Armenian troops, stationed at the border of Assyria. Nebuchadnezzar didn’t object and sent his messengers to the border to transfer the Armenian king’s wish.

     

    At first Aram’s servants were puzzled by their king’s request, as they couldn’t get the reason for asking a shield. But then they realized the reason and began to pack the inside of the shield with thin pieces of bread called lavash and handed the shield to the messenger.

    The Assyrians didn’t notice pieces of lavash, secretly hidden inside. Aram received the shield, inspected it and said that is wasn’t good enough and asked for another one.
    So, this continued to happen each day before the competition. On the 11th day Aram and Nebuchadnezzar headed to the shooting range. Nebuchadnezzar was confident as he was sure that after 10 days without food, Aram would be too weak to win.

    As you may have guessed, Aram actually won and was set free, as promised. Yes, kings used to keep promises those years! After his glorious victory with the help of lavash, Aram returned to Armenia and ordered everyone to bake only lavash and not eat any kind of bread except it.[/vc_column_text][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1582688922838{padding-top: 20px !important;}”]

    Armenian Lavash: Special Feature #2

    [/vc_column_text][vc_separator color=”custom” align=”align_left” style=”double” el_width=”40″ accent_color=”#e0a81a” css=”.vc_custom_1582688751167{padding-bottom: 10px !important;}”][vc_column_text]The next feature of lavash will catch the attention of especially the healthy eaters’ attention. Lavash is made without yeast, which is the healthiest thing that bread can have. Yeast is not very good for health and imagine using it every day! But, you have a choice to make, start eating lavash and problem solved![/vc_column_text][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1582688962878{padding-top: 20px !important;}”]

    Armenian Lavash: Special Feature #3

    [/vc_column_text][vc_separator color=”custom” align=”align_left” style=”double” el_width=”40″ accent_color=”#e0a81a” css=”.vc_custom_1582688751167{padding-bottom: 10px !important;}”][vc_column_text]Another feature of lavash is a good news for those who love to economy. Because of its simple recipe and flat surface, lavash can be dried and kept in dry condition for six months! Yes, you didn’t misread it, it’s six month.

    Whenever you feel like eating lavash, just sprinkle some water on its surface wait a couple of minutes and there you go! Lavash is soft and nice and ready to be eaten.

    Armenian Lavash in UNESCO’s list of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity

    In 2014, “Lavash, the preparation, meaning and appearance of traditional bread as an expression of culture in Armenia” was inscribed in the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

     

    If anyone had doubts about lavash’s origin, UNESCO made it clear – lavash is Armenian food, but good enough to be called heritage of humanity.

    Of course, some countries still try to manipulate it, bringing in arguments about other origins, but in vain.

    The inclusion of lavash onto the list makes it Armenia’s fourth listing on the UNESCO cultural heritage list. Others include Khachkars (cross stones), Duduk (musical instrument made from apricot tree wood) and national epos “David of Sassoun”.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]